She could not understand how a son of hers had beendriven to do the things he had done. She refused to accept the reasons hegave, or the apology he of...ered. She searched his room, she found the bagof clothes and make up that Art had kept hidden and she devised a planfor them to move forwards. Art's male clothes were thrown out, all ofthem. If he wanted to act like a girl, then she was willing to facilitateit.The first day Art arrived back at school he wore the same black skaterdress he had worn. After all, Alex was her son, not his.Alex was in his pajamas, looking sleepy-eyed with a bad case of bedhead. Cheryl greeted him in her usual upbeat manner, “Good morning, my little man. How did you sleep?”“Pretty good, I guess,” Alex replied in between yawns.Cheryl took out his cereal and the milk and put them on the table with a glass of orange juice. She tried to straighten his hair with her fingers as he started to eat. She soon gave up, got a cup of coffee and waited for him to finish. More

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