AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Eva, Izzy’s Mom, handled that one for us. The last thing we needed was law enforcement or CPS to get involved if he decided to be a dick about it. Especially given how Phoebe came to live with us.
Mom has legal custody now. She filed for it, took it to court, and as a surprise to no one, Dad never showed.
She’s trying to take it a step further now by officially adopting her. While Phoebe’s not hers biologically, she’s her child in every way that counts. She’s hers—ours—and no one, least of all our deadbeat sperm donor, is going to take her from us.
But if the local police force or CPS caught wind of Phoebe being trans…and a mom who isn’t even legally hers yet allowing her to transition…
It’s our biggest fear.
I can’t even imagine what Dad would do if he caught wind of it and found out the son he thought he had was actually a daughter this whole time. Not only that, but that Mom let her—his biological kid he put in her care—live as a girl.
He’d be fucking livid. There’s no way the sexist, piece of shit, bigoted asshole I remember would allow that. And that’s not to mention what’s in store for us when she reaches puberty, and it won’t be just clothes and hair and a name she has to worry about.
Watching her now, in the living room, as she paces in front of her lined-up dolls, hands behind her back, blonde hair hanging in a knotted mess just above her shoulders, I can’t help but wish Dad’s dead in a ditch somewhere.
It would be the best case scenario for both of us at this point, but most of all, her.
“Mason,” she says in a very serious voice.
“Yes?” I say.
Off to the side, the TV flashes with the opening theme sequence of Charmed—her favorite show, and the inspiration behind her name?—
“Phoebe. Because she’s psychic, and so am I.”
—casting the room in a blueish glow. The volume’s on low, because I’m working on a paper, seeing as I’ve got nothing better to do tonight—might as well do homework.
“Do you believe in fairies?” she asks, turning to look at me with grave blue-gray eyes like my answer is of the utmost importance.
I set my laptop on the coffee table, and shrug, running a hand through my messy, wavy hair, pushing it away from my eyes. “I don’t know.”
“You should,” she says, her mouth thinning with worry.
I hold back a smile and nod. “Why’s that?”
“Because they’re dying. Not enough people believe in them anymore.”
“Where’d you hear that?”
She looks at me like I’m an idiot. “Everyone knows this.”
“Right,” I whisper. I turn and look at the clock on the mantle, and crack my neck. “It’s just about dinner time, Squirt. Chicken nuggets or pizza?”
“Both.”
I stand up, and round the table, ruffling her hair as I pass. “That’s my girl.”
She beams up at me with a gap-toothed grin.
I make my way into the hall and toward the kitchen, soft sock-clad footfalls scrambling after me. “Oh oh oh,” she says, jumping around, “Can we watch My Girl while we eat?”
I glance down at her. “We watched that the other night.”
She gives me her best puppy pout, the one that never fails to make me crumble. “But it’s my favorite.”
Rolling my eyes, I mess her hair up again. “Every movie’s your favorite.”
“But that’s my favoritist.”
