“Are you drunk?” I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Maybe a little,” she purred through the phone.

I shook my head grinning and stretched out on my bed. “Well, I’m happy I’m who you call when you’re shit faced.”

She giggled. “Who else would I call?”

Her voice was so sultry sounding. It sent shivers down my spine. I was sure she could hear the grin in my voice.

“I dunno. Your boyfriend?”

“You know I don’t have one right now.”

My smile widened. I knew. I loved times where she was single. We were now sixteen years old and I was no closer to being with her again than I was last year. My situation remained unchanged. I was still in limbo, waiting. I kept close to her. I tried to be the best friend I could.

“I’m thinking about taking applications though,” she added.

I laughed and figured I’d play along. “Where do I send my resume?” I asked her. I tried to keep my voice light and playful.

She didn’t laugh along. Instead I heard her sigh.

I bit my lip. “Uh, everything ok? Not about to puke are you?”

“I’m ok.” She was silent for a minute before she continued speaking, “I wish you were a real guy.”

I sat up. My heart rate accelerated dramatically. My hand gripped the phone and my mouth went dry. “What do you mean?” I questioned her in a low voice.

“I wish you were a real guy. We’d be perfect together. I could really love you if you were a guy.” She sounded serious. Dead serious. The cute, lively and intoxicated tone had left her voice.

I had never felt so hurt. I choked back tears as I scooted off my bed and made my way to the half bath down the hall. I finally found my voice.

“I gotta go. My mom needs me upstairs,” I lied.

“Ok! See ya Monday!” The idiotic bliss had returned to her voice. Almost as if she hadn’t just crushed my heart.

I didn’t respond. I hung up and sat the phone down on the counter. I studied my reflection in the mirror.

I was short. My dark brown hair was shoulder length. My eyes glistened, trying to push down the tears. My breasts were large. Impossible to hide. I slid open the door and grabbed the small scissors I typically used just to trim my bangs. I stared into my own teary eyes for what felt like forever then I watched my hands go to work. They seemed to move of their own will, drawing my hair up into a ponytail then quickly hacking through the length until my ponytail broke away and fell to the tile floor. I shook my hair and fluffed it trying to hide the feminine qualities to my face. Then I pulled my t-shirt over my head. I turned to the side to stare at my upper torso. I pressed my palms against my chest and tried to flatten my breasts. I hurried back to my room and gathered some clothes. I grabbed a gray button down shirt, a black pair of guys cargo shorts and then I moved to my desk. I rummaged in the drawer until I found a roll of duct tape then I carried everything back to the bathroom. I changed into the shorts. I wrapped the tape tightly around my chest. I barely noticed the way it hurt to breathe. I pulled my t-shirt back on then topped it with the button down shirt. I took a step back and looked at myself.

I shook my head and sank back against the wall. It was in that moment while I replayed her words in my head that I realized I could never be what she wanted me to be. I was in love with someone who would never love me.