Give my best to your sister and the gang. I’ll think of you often.
Goodbye,
Sage
I reread the letter, then folded it and stuck it in my empty desk. I stared into space for what seemed like hours, thinking about what to do next.
I could track Sage down. Rob would know where Tammi had moved to. A guy like that wouldn’t be a hard egg to crack. And then what? Show up at her new house one day, after she asked me not to? And tell her … what? To move back to Missouri? That was terrible advice in any circumstance. Tell her I still cared about her? Thanks to my mental hospital breakdown, she already knew that.
Alone in my dorm room, I suddenly felt trapped. So I decided to go outside and get some air. I hoped that would clear my head.
I locked up and cut across the small grassy area between Graham Hall and the parking lot. I sat on a concrete bench and wished that I was a smoker. This was my first day of college, and all I could think about was the woman who had made me angrier and happier than anyone else. If I allowed myself to forget Sage, then I’d be no better than my father, bailing when things got rough. But if I sat around and waited for her to come back, it would be Brenda all over again.
The nasty truth was, I might never see Sage again. It was what she said she wanted. She deserved to be happy. And if happiness meant leaving the state, then so be it. Even if it meant cutting off all contact with me. Tammi was right; that was Sage’s decision, not mine.
I thought back over the past year with her. The fighting, the talking, the kissing, the friendship.
Sage drove me crazy, but I didn’t regret knowing her. She made me too happy. She once told me I made her feel beautiful, special, like she belonged. I’d never told her she did the same thing for me. I’d never forget her. It would be Sage, not Brenda, who I compared future girls to.
I chuckled. Any future relationship I had wouldn’t be nearly as complicated as the one I’d had with Sage. And probably not as fun.
I’d never give up hoping for that letter with an out-of-state postmark, but it might never come. Sage knew how to reach me. In the meantime, we both had our lives to live.
Speaking of girls, over in the parking lot, a skinny chick was struggling to remove a packing crate from the back of a hatchback car. The box probably weighed more than she did. She’d lift one end, then collapse after a second or two. Wearily, I got up to help her.
Up close, the girl was almost scrawny, nothing but gristle and bone. She had thin blond hair that rose up too high on her forehead, no chin, and two big blue eyes that thanked me before I even offered to help.
“Thank you!” she gasped as I hefted the box. She attempted to hold half of it, but it was easier for me to carry it myself. When she closed the back of her car, I noticed it had Ohio plates.
“You live in Graham?” I asked.
“Yeah, first floor.” As we walked to the dorm, she buzzed around me with the annoying persistence of someone who wants to help but can’t. She held the door for me, then stood awkwardly in the doorway, not realizing I’d have to squeeze by her.
She repeated her thanks as she fumbled with her room’s lock. “I’m from out of town. I didn’t have anyone to ask.”
I set the box on a bare bed. In fact, the entire right side of the room was empty.
My neighbor jingled her keys in an irritating manner. “I was assigned a roommate, but she joined a sorority.”
“So you got a single. Good job.”
“Yeah. I guess.” She didn’t look happy.
I nodded and started to leave.
“Wait!” she suddenly squeaked. I turned.
“Would you like a soda? It’s warm, and all I have is diet Sprite and … and …”
Her eyes were almost ungodly huge. She was a thousand miles from home and didn’t know anyone. And not every new student made friends as easily as Sage.
I smiled at her. “You hungry? Want to check out the dining hall?”
“Yes!” She threw up her hands, causing her keys to fly across the room. As she retrieved them, I laughed inside. I’d just gotten to college and had already made a friend. Cute in a lost-puppy kind of way, though I really wasn’t interested in that end of things.
“I’m Logan,” I told her as we left the building.
“I’m Chris.”
Chris chattered the whole walk to the dining hall. She had a pleasant voice and was rather articulate once she calmed down. I was glad to get to know her. Her half-empty room might be a good place to hang out when I wanted to get away from Jack. She wasn’t a girl who would turn heads, but that wasn’t important. All we were doing was having lunch.
And what if it did turn into something more? If not with Chris, then the next Erin. I knew someday I’d start feeling lonely enough to date again.
There was no point in worrying about the next girl in my life right now. All I knew was that she would have a hard time measuring up to Sage.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
This novel wouldn’t have been possible without all the real-life Sages who were willing to share their personal tales with me. I was hurt by the stories of those whose parents rejected them even more harshly than Sage’s father rejected her, and I was inspired by those who had their own Tammis and Logans to lean on. I have nothing but respect for those of you who must follow a difficult path.
So for any of you who are walking in Sage’s shoes, what now? Where can you turn? While researching this novel, I found that the one common feeling among transgender teens was that of being completely alone. Well, you’re not. There are others like you, and there are people out there who can help you make sense of your feelings and decide what to do next.
If you can’t discuss your feelings with a parent, counselor, clergyperson, or family friend, I’d suggest contacting Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays (PFLAG). Go to www.communitypflag.org.netcommunity and check for a chapter in your area. PFLAG also provides a lot of information for gay, bisexual, and transgender people, as well as those who just have questions. Its Transgender Network (TNET) can help point you to a sympathetic counselor.
The Gender Public Advocacy Coalition is an American grassroots organization dedicated to helping transgender youth cope in school and in the community. You can find the coalition at www.gpac.org/youth. Antijen, at www.antijen.org, is another transgender youth site that offers some good, practical information and stories. The Transsexual Road Map is a nuts-and-bolts site that discusses transitioning and legal issues, and networking opportunities to families of trans-gender youth. It’s at www.tsroadmap.com.
The Internet is full of great resources for transgender people. It’s also full of creeps who would love to meet a sexually confused teenager and take advantage of him or her. Please remember, if you contact anyone online, NEVER GIVE YOUR REAL NAME OR HOME STATE. Things are not always as they seem. No matter how sincere someone sounds online, do not give them the benefit of the doubt.
Also, if you are concerned about privacy on Internet Explorer and use a Mac, click Tools, Delete Browsing History, and Delete History. On a PC, click Tools, Internet Options, General, Clear History, and Okay. (My boss still doesn’t know that I spent most of my workday reading Wikipedia.)
If you find yourself trying to understand a transgender friend or family member, please keep an open mind. Imagine how hard it must be for them to come to terms with their gender identity. Sage’s assault and suicide attempts were based on real-life incidents. The best thing you can do is listen. You may be the only one in the world they can turn to.
One final note: Sage’s decision to take illegally obtained hormones—which can be extremely dangerous if used improperly—was ill-advised, and under no circumstances should anyone attempt this. To quote one of my sources, “Hormones are not womanhood in a bottle. They are medication and should only be prescribed by a physician.” Misuse of synthetic hormones can lead to stroke and permanent liver damage. Never take medication that your doctor hasn’t prescribed.
Thank you
for reading this book.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I would like to thank the many people who helped with this project: Thanks to Barri, Heidi, Margo, and Elaine, who helped me turn my incoherent scribblings into a readable book. Big thanks to my editor, Claudia Gabel, who took a risk on this unusual YA book. I’d like to thank the many real-life Sages who were willing to share their stories with me via the Internet. Big hugs to Andrew Schlafly; every time I had doubts about this project, your blog convinced me I was doing the right thing. Finally, I’d really like to thank my wife, Sandra, and my daughter, Sophie, whose love and support made all this possible.
BRIAN KATCHER the author of Playing with Matches. He is a school librarian and lives in Missouri with his wife and daughter. You can visit him at www.briankatcher.com.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2009 by Brian Katcher
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Delacorte Press, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
Delacorte Press is a registered trademark and the colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.
Visit us on the Web! www.randomhouse.com/teens
Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at www.randomhouse.com/teachers
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Katcher, Brian.
Almost perfect / Brian Katcher—1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: With his mother working long hours and in pain from a romantic break-up, eighteen-year-old Logan feels alone and unloved until a zany new student arrives at his small-town Missouri high school, keeping a big secret.
eISBN: 978-0-375-89379-7
[1. Dating (Social customs)—Fiction. 2. High schools—Fiction. 3. Schools—Fiction. 4. Friendship—Fiction. 5. Identity—Fiction. 6. Transgender people—Fiction. 7. Single-parent families—Fiction. 8. Missouri—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.K1565Alm 2009
[Fic]—dc22 2008037659
Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.
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