Playing video games with Aaron cooled what bad blood remained from the spat in the kitchen. I enjoyed yelling at the screen, trying to beat my brother to the best gun upgrade, shooting him down and tea-bagging his space marine character with glorious laughter, all like I was still a sixteen-year old, immature boy, not a curvy, teenage girl some nurses had mistook for a grown woman.
After Dad got home, I dawdled in my room, catching up with my friends' lives through Facebook. My name, profile picture, and personal information still listed me as Brian, but I figured I'd change it another time. I'd traded out Rachel's ultra-femme outfit for some of my old clothes, which I begged Dad to bring just in case, they might make good pajamas or something. I wore a Black Sabbath t-shirt that wouldn't fit except my breasts compensated for the thinner torso, and boxers as long as fall shorts. I'd thrown the bra and panties on the floor, and while my nipples sometimes brushed the cotton and stung, it felt worlds better. Rachel told me to wear feminine clothing every day my first month to break the prejudice and help me get comfortable; I wondered what she'd say if I told her my brother eyed me like a wolf. How about those feminine clothes now?
Around nine I figured I should wash myself. I didn't want Aaron to see me undress or naked so I checked the bathroom lock before disrobing, then turned the water pressure really high so everywhere in the house, you could tell someone was about to take a bath. There would be no misunderstanding, no knocking on the door, saying, "Oh! I didn't know you were in there!" and catching a peek of my cleavage. Even I'd grown wary of looking at my body; I stared ahead while undressed and avoided the mirror until I got in the bath. Then I stretched out in the water till only my head was visible. Admittedly, the water tickled my nether regions in a way I slightly enjoyed, I won't stress it too much, but it helped me close my eyes, blow bubbles with my mouth, and forget the day's troubles.
Then someone pounded on the door.
"What the hell?" I snapped, splashing everywhere, disturbed from my zen-bath. I gripped the edges to lift myself, but a grumbly voice said, "Don't move! You can keep washing, I got the keys."
I settled back in. It was my dad. The doorknob jiggled while he put the key in, then the door swung open and Dad walked in, tie hanging like a scarf on his neck, dress shirt unbuttoned, and specks of salsa around his lips. Good ol' Dad, I thought, Don't change after work, just kick back and watch the tube, eating nachos. I didn't think this in a negative way. I loved my dad, laziness and all.
"Don't mind me, uhh... Alyssa." He nodded to himself; yeah, he'd said the right name. "I won't be long, but I wanted to talk."
I sank deeper. You could only see me from the nose up. "Mmhm?" I gurgled.
"Aaron told me about what happened with you guys earlier, when you were doing dishes and he, looked from behind--"
"Yeah, Dad, I know what happened," I said, treading water with my left leg. I refused to make eye contact with my dad; not while we discussed this.
"He told me he apologized, and you accepted it. I hope you really did, but that's not why I'm here right now..." Dad took a deep breath. I finally looked at him, and saw he was straining to say whatever he intended to tell him. "It's a good time to ask yourself, now that you're out..."
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