Every time I sleep somewhere other than my home, I usually have trouble sleeping. Tonight was no exception. When Robert told us we had to go to sleep, Jack went to his room, and Robert took me to what would be mine. He led me to a room with a mattress on the floor, an old wardrobe, and a window facing a tree.

—Well, this is where you'll sleep from now on. Feel free to do whatever you want with this room because now it belongs to you. It's under my name, but it's yours.

—Thank you. I don't know how to express my gratitude for giving me the chance to live with you and Jack.

—No need to thank me. After all, everyone deserves a home, right? Well, I'll leave you to sleep. Rest well.

—You too, rest well.

After that, I put my things in the wardrobe, went to the mattress, and lay down on my back.

—Well, so this is what you decided. It's time to adapt— I thought to myself.

After that, I had one of the worst bouts of insomnia of my life. I only managed to sleep for 2 hours, from four in the morning until six. It was terrible. Worse still, I had classes, and even worse, there was the possibility that my father would be waiting for me to take me back home, which could mean he would find out about Robert and Jack and want to harm them. And? And?

Then I heard a knock on the door and saw it open. It was Robert.

—Good morning, Jim.

—Good morning.

—How did you sleep?

—I only slept like two or three hours. I don't even know. I overthought a lot last night.

—I see. Overthinking always brings back bad memories. For example, Jack.

—Jack?— I said, perking up my ears.

—Yes, well, Jack didn't have a good past either, just like you.

—What happened?— I asked, with indignation and curiosity.

Robert, sitting beside me: —Well, it all started a long time ago. When he was a child, he had a very close friend. So close that they visited each other every day, always ate together, studied together, and even had sleepovers occasionally. But one day, when Jack was 16, that friend started to change. They started to act differently, talk differently, let their hair grow, and dress differently, until one day they approached Jack and said,

—Jack, I need to tell you something.

—Yes, tell me—about to get on his skateboard.

—I don't know what's happening to me, but I feel different. I don't feel like myself, and I feel like I'm not the same anymore.

—What do you mean?—stopping for a moment.

—Jack, I don't want to be a boy anymore. I want to be a woman.

—Wait, what?

—I think I'm trans, and honestly, I don't know how I should feel or what to do. And I feel that you, being my closest person, should know, because I don't think even my parents would understand.

Jack, stopping what he was doing: —I see. Look, I don't care what you are or what you will be because you're my friend, or well... my friend, and feel free to be yourself with me.

—You're not alone anymore.

And so the days went by, and the change in his new friend, whose name was Jessica, became more and more noticeable until they were fully a woman.

By the time they were 17, they both felt comfortable. Jessica, as she had always longed to be, and Jack, for always being a support and guide for Jessica. But others didn't see it that way. People who were not so accepting began to appear and make their lives a living hell, especially Jessica's. Comments like "look at the tomboy" or "are you a woman? Come and show me one of yours," and even throwing things like pads or pencils at her. Jack, on the other hand, defended her as much as he could, but it didn't seem to work.

—Don't listen to those idiots— Jack told Jessica.

—I know, but I just can't, Jack. I don't want to go through this anymore—said Jessica, crying.

One day, almost Christmas Eve, Jack received an email that said,

"From Jessica to Jack,

Hi, I know this may sound strange, but thank you. Thank you for all the effort you've made to stop all this and for not giving up to make it stop, but I can't take it anymore.

Jessica is tired. She can't go on."

At that moment, he left his house on his bike as fast as he could, heading to Jessica's house. When he arrived, he knocked on the door, and there was her mother at the door.

—Hi, Jack. What brings you here?—asked Jessica's mother.

—Do you know anything about Jessica?— Jack asked urgently.

—Oh, I don't know anything about "her." The last thing I know is that she argued with her father last night and left the house furiously with her backpack—she replied.

—I see, thanks—said Jack.

—And what happened!?— I exclaimed.

—Jack didn't stop searching and asking around until one day, he simply gave up. After that, we met on MeWe and became friends, and the rest you already know— Robert explained.

—Wow. I didn't expect that. It's clear he had a rough time— I said.

—Yes, but in the end, you have to move on. Because if you only live in the past, you'll stay in the past and won't be happy—said Robert.

—I see. What time is it?— I asked.

—It's 7:20. Come on, we have to get ready because in 40 minutes you have classes. I'll wait for you downstairs with breakfast—said Robert.

—Okay, thanks— I replied.