Too Pretty to Be a Boy -14- by Lajien

As we placed the final plate on the table, the doorbell rang.  I preferred the previous version commonly depicted in films, as it was quieter and less intrusive compared to contemporary systems. This doorbell system rings almost everywhere in the house, and you get a phone notification in the app.

“I’ll get the door,” I said as Nonna and Mom nodded. Johnny was occupied with Mom’s laptop since Chrystal had smashed his to pieces. He was performing managerial duties, as dad had assigned him responsibility for managing all the restaurants in Los Angeles.

I approached the door and opened it to find Aunt Bella standing there. She shared my mother's hair color, though her eyes were a different shade of green, complemented by a few silver strands in her hair and some wrinkles on her skin. Nevertheless, Aunt Bella truly distinguished herself in appearance. Although she is in her late thirties, aside from minor signs of aging such as changes in hair and slight wrinkles, her appearance could be mistaken for someone in their late twenties.

Aunt Bella greeted me at the door with a wide smile and said, “Goodness, Carla, look at you,” her eyes twinkling with delight before she wrapped me in a warm, genuine hug. Although the hug felt a little awkward at first, I could sense her affection, and soon found myself leaning into it, comforted by her familiar presence.

She pulled back slightly to get a better look at me, beaming as she continued, “I knew my sister’s daughter would be pretty, but this—you’re like an angel.” I couldn’t help but blush under her kind gaze, feeling both bashful and cherished at that moment. Even though our conversation was brief—Aunt Bella was always bustling about, busy visiting Los Angeles or catching up with friends—her warmth lingered.

“She got this from you, Bella. I’m concerned she might want to be a surgeon like you. If anyone needed her help she would literarily jump in the fire to help them,” Mom said, joining us with a loving smile as she gently placed her hand on my shoulder. There was pride in her voice, and I caught her giving Aunt Bella a knowing look, as if to say how grateful she was for her sister’s influence. Then Mom asked, “Where are the twins?” It was only then that I realized I hadn’t seen Jimmy and Janet since we arrived.

Aunt Bella let out a soft sigh, her expression fond. “They’re in the car. Janet is trying to reassure Jenny that she looks fine in her dress. I swear she doesn’t recognize how good she looks.” The gentle concern in her words reminded me once again how much she cared for all of us, not just in passing moments but in the quiet ways family members encourage and lift each other up. For a brief second, I felt surrounded by love and gratitude—the kind that makes even the most ordinary gatherings feel like special occasions.

“Maybe I can help?” I volunteered, making Aunt Bella beam with happiness. I didn’t need permission; I immediately walked out of the house. I spotted Aunt Bella’s white SUV parked beside Nonna’s old sports car from 2026, that Nonno had given her as she told me many times.

I walked over to the car and saw two girls getting out, around my age, if I remember correctly. They both looked alike, and I couldn’t tell them apart, if it wasn’t for Jenny being nervous.

“Janet, Jenny,” I called, and they turned to me. Both looked exactly like Aunt Bella. They both had shared our blonde hair, but they shared the bright shade of green eye color like Aunt Bella. They both wore matching, light green A-line dresses with short sleeves, both wore low-heeled pumps, and black pantyhose. “You look great,” I exclaimed, making Janet and Jenny look at me, confused.

It took them a second, but then Jenny’s eyes went wide with shock as she looked at me. “Carl, is that you?” Jenny asked in shock.

I smiled at both of them, standing by Aunt Bella’s white SUV parked next to Nonna’s sleek 2026 sports car, a glint caught my eye—a delicate silver necklace at Jenny’s throat, identical to the heirloom Mom had given me, Nonna’s treasure passed to the eldest daughter of each daughter. My heart stuttered, a quiet jolt of surprise rippling through me.

 Jenny had been Jimmy until just months ago, her GCS diagnosis still fresh, so I’d assumed Janet, the non-GCS twin, would wear the family’s cherished pendant. The necklace’s intricate filigree, with its tiny sapphire nestled in a swirl of silver, gleamed under the porch light, mirroring my own. I bit my lip, the urge to ask bubbling up, but I swallowed it, not wanting to stir confusion or dampen the warmth of this reunion. Tonight was for family, for connection, not questions about traditions that might not yet make sense.

“I’m Carla now, not Carl,” I said softly, meeting their bright green eyes, so like Aunt Bella’s, sparkling with the same lively hue under the California dusk. “I’m a GCS girl, like you, Jenny.” My voice felt steady, though my pulse quickened, sharing this truth with someone whose journey echoed mine. Jenny looked up from tugging at her light green A-line dress, her eyes widening with a spark of recognition, a warmth that felt like finding a long-lost friend. It was as if she saw her own reflection in two girls navigating the strange, beautiful shift of GCS, our bodies rewriting themselves in ways we were still learning to embrace.

Jenny fidgeted, her fingers brushing the hem of her dress, then tugging at the black pantyhose clinging to her legs. “This is all so weird,” she murmured, her voice tinged with frustration. “These pantyhose itch like crazy, and they keep slipping down. And don’t get me started on these heels.”

She glanced down at her low-heeled pumps, wobbling slightly as she shifted her weight. “I keep thinking I’m going to trip and make a fool of myself. How do you even do this, Carla?” Her tone mixed envy and exasperation, her hazel eyes searching mine for some secret to surviving this new world of femininity.

I blinked, caught off guard, my mind flashing to my own first day in heels—the beige pumps Mom picked for the La Belleza dinner, how they felt foreign yet oddly right. “Honestly, I thought I’d fall too,” I admitted, a soft laugh escaping, the sound blending with the evening breeze rustling through Nonna’s garden. “But somehow, I just… walked. Like my body already knew how.”

It was surprising, even to me, how easily I’d taken to heels, the click of my floral sandals on the porch feeling natural now, my balance steady despite my GCS changes. Maybe it was the booster tablets Dr. Norman prescribed, syncing my body’s new curves with my movements, or maybe it was Mom’s patient lessons on posture. Either way, I felt a quiet pride, mixed with wonder, that my transition felt so instinctive in that moment.

“You’re lucky,” Jenny sighed, kicking at a pebble with her pump, her face scrunching. “I feel like I’m playing dress-up in someone else’s life.” She paused, then added, her voice softer, “I wish I looked as good as you, Carla. You make it seem so… easy.” Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away, as if embarrassed by her own honesty.

I laughed again, warmer this time, the sound carrying the comfort of our shared path. “Jenny, you need to look in the mirror more often,” I said, stepping closer, my sundress swaying slightly. “You’re pretty—really. That dress fits you perfectly, and those green eyes. They’re like Aunt Bella’s, totally striking.” I meant every word, seeing how the light caught Jenny’s features, her nervous energy only adding to her charm.

Janet, standing beside her, groaned dramatically, rolling her eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck. “Ugh, I’ve been telling her that all day!” she said, tossing her blonde hair, her own green eyes glinting with mock frustration. “Jenny, you’re gorgeous, but you’re too stubborn to believe it. Carla’s right—own it already!” Her teasing broke the tension, and we all giggled, the sound weaving together like the notes of a violin piece I’d been practicing, each of us finding harmony in this moment.

“C’mon,” I said, gesturing toward the house, where the scent of Nonna’s lasagna wafted through the open door. “Let’s go inside. Nonna’s waiting, and I bet she’ll have some trick for that pantyhose.” Jenny’s smile grew, tentative but real, and I felt a surge of hope. Maybe, just like I was helping Nathan find his strength, I could help Jenny find hers too.

As we gathered around Mom’s dining table, the chandelier’s amber glow cast delicate rainbows across her best porcelain plates, the rich aroma of Nonna’s lasagna—tangy tomato, fragrant basil, and a secret hint of dark chocolate—blending with the sweet jasmine from Aunt Carol’s potted plant, a gift from the Jaegers’ beloved garden. Johnny, his jet-black hair catching the light, pulled out my chair with a playful grin.

“My sister needs to be treated like a vera principessa—a real princess,” he teased, his grey eyes twinkling.

My cheeks burned as I sat in my baby blue sundress, the white opaque pantyhose cool against my legs, floral sandals clicking softly. “Johnny, stop it,” I mumbled, my emerald eyes dropping, a shy smile tugging at my lips. The word “princess” warmed my heart, affirming my GCS journey.

Nonna, her floral apron folded beside her, beamed, her eyes crinkling. “Mie bellissime nipoti,” she said, her Italian warmth filling the room. “My granddaughters—Carla, Jenny, Janet—you are so beautiful, così radiose, like stars in my sky. I’m so proud, my cuore sings for you all.”

She turned to Janet, her dirty blonde hair shimmering, green eyes like Aunt Bella’s. “And you, Janet, cara mia, you gave Jenny your nonna’s necklace, meant for you, to lift her spirit through her GCS. That’s amore vero—true love.”

Janet blushed, twisting a napkin. “Nonna, she’s my twin. It’s the least I could do.”

Jenny squeezed Janet’s hand, their matching light green A-line dresses rustling, the sapphire in Jenny’s necklace glinting, mirroring my own. I felt relief, my earlier confusion about Jenny wearing it answered by Janet’s selfless act.

As we dug into the lasagna, the melty cheese stretching with each bite, its flavors dancing on my tongue, small talk bubbled up. “So, Jenny, Janet, what’s next for you two?” I asked, curious about my cousins.

Jenny’s eyes lit up, her nervousness easing. “We’re starting at an art school in the fall. I want to be an actor—maybe on a big stage or in movies!”

Nonna clapped, her silver bracelets jingling. “Oh, Jenny, cara, I’d love to see you as a grande stella, a big star, shining for the world!”

Jenny giggled, her cheeks pink, her black pantyhose shifting as she adjusted her low-heeled pumps.

Aunt Bella, her dirty blonde hair streaked with silver, smiled warmly. “I hear Carla plays the violin very well.”

Nonna jumped in, her voice rising with pride. “Very well? No, no, Bella, Carla non suona bene—she’s a genio, a genius with that violin!”

My face flushed hotter than the lasagna, my heart racing as I ducked my head, the sapphire necklace cool against my skin. “Nonna, I’m not that good,” I protested softly.

Nonna shook her head, her nod fierce. “You are, Carla, a genio!”

The chatter softened as we ate, the jasmine scent weaving through the room. Jenny, poking at her lasagna, sighed. “These pantyhose are so itchy, and they keep slipping down. And walking in these shoes? I’m hopeless compared to Carla.”

Mom chuckled, her emerald eyes gentle as she reached for Jenny’s hand. “Cara, don’t try to fill Carla’s shoes. She was sempre destinata a essere una ragazza—always meant to be a girl. You’ll find your rhythm, Jenny, I promise.”

Jenny’s lips curved into a small smile, comforted. I felt a pang of pride and gratitude for Mom’s words, my GCS journey feeling like destiny.

Nonna leaned forward, savoring her wine. “Sono felice che almeno uno dei figli di Harry gli somigli. Johnny è un gentiluomo, not like Dicky e Peter—quelli sono animali!”

Mom gasped, her fork pausing. “Mamma!”

“Dicky e Peter sono anche i miei figli, you know, my kids too,” Mom said, her voice sharp but fond, mixing Italian and English.

Nonna sighed, her bracelets clinking. “Mi dispiace, Lilian, cara. I’m sorry, but I cannot forgive what they did to my nipotina, Carla.”

Her eyes met mine, fierce with love, and I felt her protection wrap around me, stronger than the lasagna’s warmth.

As we finished dinner, the plates nearly clean, Aunt Carol’s jasmine plant glowing in the chandelier’s light, Aunt Bella spoke up. “Carla, why don’t you play your violin for us?”

Janet nodded eagerly. “Please, Carla!”

Jenny’s eyes brightened, her earlier doubts forgotten. “Yeah, please!”

Johnny gave me a steady nod, his grey eyes encouraging.

My cheeks burned again, but their warmth pulled me to my feet. “Okay,” I said softly, retrieving my handmade violin—Johnny’s gift, saved from Chrystal’s vandalism.

I stood by the table, the bow trembling slightly in my hand, and began to play, a soft melody filling the room, each note weaving our family’s love into the air.

The last of Nonna’s hugs were the best, a final squeeze that smelled of lasagna and love. Aunt Bella and the twins had already walked to the car, their laughter floating back to us. We stood on the porch, waving until Nonna’s car, the sleek 2026 sports model, pulled out of the driveway and disappeared. The silence that followed felt heavy, a sudden absence after so much joy and noise. It was the quiet of a house that had been full of family and was now just… a home again.

The shift In atmosphere was palpable, and I felt my shoulders slump with the emotional release of the evening. I needed to peel off my beautiful but restrictive “Carla” clothes. I went to my room and quickly changed out of the baby blue sundress and white opaque pantyhose, hanging them up carefully. I pulled on a pair of comfortable denim shorts and a soft, gray tank top. The simple act of changing felt like shedding a layer of armor.

As I flopped onto my bed, my phone screen lit up. It was a new email from the Colburn School, subject line: “Welcome, Carl.” My stomach did a nervous flip. The email was from my new violin teacher, a Ms. Caldwell, explaining that she was excited to work with me and wanted to meet for an introductory session in two days at 3 PM, if I was free. My hands started to tremble. Ms. Caldwell didn’t know me as Carla; she knew me as Carl. What would she think? Would she still want to teach me?

I walked out of my room and found Mom in the living room, gathering some of Nonna’s things she had left behind. “Mom,” I said, my voice small. “My violin teacher emailed me. She wants me to come to the academy in two days.”

Mom looked up, a bright smile spreading across her face. “That’s wonderful, honey! See? I told you. She’s just as excited to have you as we are.”

“But she still thinks I’m Carl,” I said, wringing my hands. “What if she thinks I’m not good enough after she sees me?”

Mom walked over to me and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Carla, listen to me. Any teacher would be lucky to have you as a student. You are the most talented musician I know. Trust me, you’re not going to be trying to prove yourself to her; she’s going to be trying to figure out how to keep you.” Her words were a warm, confident shield against my fear. “You’re a natural, and you’re too good for anyone to turn down.”

Just as the last traces of my nervousness were fading, my phone vibrated again. It was a text from Angela. What are you up to? The girls and I are having a sleepover and watching movies. You should come!

I felt a surge of excitement. This was exactly what I needed—a night of normal, teenaged fun. I quickly replied, Nothing, I’d love to! Then I looked at Mom. “Angela wants me to go to a sleepover at her house. Can I?”

“Of course,” Mom said with a smile. “Just be back by noon tomorrow, so we can make our appointment on time. Don’t forget about our interview with the school.” I went to my room and quickly packed a bag with essentials, tossing in a change of clothes, my toiletries, and my phone charger.

“Wait a minute,” Johnny’s voice came from the dining room. He had been so engrossed in the laptop that I’d forgotten he was there. He walked out, his gray eyes fixed on me. “I’m walking you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Johnny, it’s not even late. It’s only a couple of houses down the road, and it’s completely safe.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said, already grabbing his keys. “It’s my job as your big brother. I’m not letting my little sister walk alone at night.”

As we started the walk, the streetlights cast a soft orange glow on the sidewalks. Johnny kept a slow, even pace beside me. “So, you’re a big-shot actress now, huh?” he asked, a teasing grin on his face.

“What are you talking about?” I replied, a small smile forming on my face.

“That whole thing with Jenny,” he explained. “Coming out to her and making her feel better. You’re a natural. And the way you handled Chrystal on the phone? Who are you, and what have you done with my little brother?”

“That’s the point, isn’t it?” I said, the words coming easily. “I’m not your brother anymore, Johnny. I’m your sister. And I guess I’m figuring out what that means.”

“Well, so far, it means you’re pretty awesome,” he said, his voice dropping to a serious tone. “You’re like a little mama bear for this whole family. Protecting me from Chrystal, helping Jenny. It’s cool to see.”

I felt my cheeks flush. “I just wanted to help,” I murmured.

“That’s what family does,” he said, patting me on the shoulder. “That’s what you do.”

Just as we rounded the corner, Angela’s house came into view. The porch light was on, and I could see a few faces in the window. “I’m here,” I said, my heart fluttering with anticipation.

Johnny nodded, giving me a final look. “Have fun, Carla. But if anything, and I mean anything, feels wrong, you call me. Day or night. Got it?”

“I got it,” I replied, a genuine smile on my face. With one last nod, he turned and started the walk back home. I watched him for a moment before I took a deep breath, and walked up to the door and rang the doorbell, ready for whatever the night would bring.