thecluelessredhead - Tumblr blog

thecluelessredhead · 3 years

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Alex, Not Alexis

When Alex Mercer was born, his doctor called him a baby girl. His parents dressed him up in a pretty pink onesie with white stripes and took him home. They named him Alexis Abigail Mercer. They liked to call him Lexi for short.

At a year and a half old, Alex was sat in the living room watching Sesame Street while his mother, Rebecca cooked dinner and his father, George sat reading the newspaper. He smiled and giggled when Suzanne Farrell appeared in her pretty pink tutu and danced around like a ballerina. He clapped as she twirled and stood in fifth position, and Rebecca decided then that her little "Alexis" was going to take ballet lessons when "she" turned two.

At two years and a month, Alex was put into his first ballet lesson, clad in a pretty pink tutu, just like Suzanne. He was taught how to stand in position, how to move his arms and hands so he could dance, just like her. He smiled proudly at himself as he twirled in his little tutu, his proud mother watching with happy tears in her eyes.

When Alex started school a few years later, he was nervous to be in a new environment. He's always been a little anxious about trying new things and about being away from mommy and daddy. The little boys and girls at school already seeming cliqued up and excluding him did not calm him down.

For a few years, he would come home from school upset and crying because the other kids laughed at him for panicking, needing his Epi-pen, or whatever bad thing happened that set him off like a boy pulling his pigtails. When he didn't, he would tell his mom he was sick, because he did sort of feel sick, and ask for chicken soup and a mom-approved show on the TV.

But when he felt alright, he would just go and suffer the consequences. Until one day in third grade when he met this boy named Luke Patterson. Luke was nice to him and would yell at bullies for being mean because "She's not doing anything bad! Just leave her alone!" and run to tell a teacher to get them in trouble.

"Thank you, Luke, for making them go away." Alex would tell him and push his bangs out of his face, behind his ears. He was sort of starting to hate his long bangs and long hair. But he loved his pink clothes.

"No problem!" Luke would respond and grab his hand, and they would take off together in search of crickets and grasshoppers to chase.

They stayed best friends all though out the rest of their elementary years, and into middle school. His parents loved Luke for Alex. A little boy who shared their sweet "Alexis'" faith and was nice to "her"? He seemed absolutely perfect. Until they got to know him.

See, Luke was sort of a stubborn, rebellious boy who liked rock bands and electric guitar. It only got worse when the pair met Bobby Wilson in the seventh grade and introduced them to Reggie Peters, who wore leather jackets and Bobby only encouraged Reggie, Luke and Alex sneaking out to see bands they liked, and who called their sweet baby Alex. Little did they know it was because Alex had asked the three of them to call him that.

Alex laughed as he stood in the arcade with Bobby, Reggie and Luke, beating Reggie at Street Fighter for the third time that day. Their arcade trips had soon become a regular thing, and they had learned to ignore the strange looks they got from the fact of the four of them being three boys in rebellious rocker boy garb and a girl in a baby pink hoodie, grey baggy shorts, hair shoved under a black snapback, and Nike sneakers.

"Way to go, Alexis!" Reggie cheered him on, fist in the air in celebration at his best friend winning yet again.

Alex blinked and felt his smile falter just a little, giving Reggie a fist bump. "Thanks, buddy."

Reggie took notice of her smile shrinking, though, and frowned a little, tilting his head. "Hey, you ok? Something bothering you?"

"What? No, I'm fine. Just-" Alex stopped to take a deep breath, shoving the anxiety building up in his stomach down. He knew his friends would be fine with such a small change, so why did the idea of asking this of them make him want to throw up the pizza they just ate? "I- Can you guys stop calling me Alexis? I don't like that name. I want to be called Alex." He admitted and bit his lip, bouncing on his heels.

"Oh, sure." Reggie shrugged like it was nothing.

"No problem, Alex." Luke agreed with a smile.

"Alex it is." Bobby nodded. "But is Lexi still ok?"

Alex considered it for a second and nodded with a smile. "Lexi is still ok, but thanks for asking first."

"Hey, we just want you to be comfortable, Alex." Bobby smiled and Alex chuckled, bumping shoulders with him. "Thanks, boys."

"Anything for you, Lexi." Reggie promised. "Besides, it would be weird of me to call you a name you don't like when I ask everyone to call me Reggie instead of Reginald. Just feels wrong." He said, scrunching up his face when he spoke his full name.

"Or Bobby instead of Robert." Bobby cringed.

"Or Luke instead of... Um, Lucy." Luke admitted and bit his lip, watching his best friend's reactions carefully.

"Luke fits you better." Alex told him, silently promising to keep his real name a secret from the rest of the world for all eternity, and he saw appreciation in Luke's eyes at that. So his best friend was both Christian and transgender (and maybe so was he). It didn't have to be a big deal. Luke was still Luke, and he would always be just Luke to Alex. He smiled, silently pointing his thumb at the game machine.

"I like Luke!" Reggie grinned, giving him a comforting pat on the back.

"Yeah, man. It sounds cool. Sounds like a rock star name." Bobby commented and Luke chuckled as he put another coin in the slot to play (and lose) again.

So it was settled. His boys called him Alex and Lexi and he called his boys Luke, Reggie and Bobby. It worked for them. It felt right.

He knew he couldn't just ask his parents to stop calling him the name they picked out that they loved so much, so he just didn't. And he definitely wasn't planning on ever telling them that he was pretty sure he was a boy like his best friends, not a girl like they had previously thought, because he'd heard the awful way his very conservative, very religious parents had talked about "disgusting queers and their sick desire to poison the youth and watch the world go up in flames".

So yeah, he was very much content with keeping it a secret until he turned eighteen and moved out so he could do whatever he wanted to, like cut his hair and legally change his name and get a whole new wardrobe that he didn't have to hide in the back of his closet behind pretty church dresses and ballet class tutus. Like his cool hoodies and pants and sneakers. He still loved the color pink. It was still his favorite. He was just a boy that liked pink. Not a girl. It didn't have to be a big deal.

And he did keep that secret, very well. For a while. Some punk kid at school told his parents and they told Alex's parents, who promptly threw a massive tantrum about having a daughter, not a son, and how they did not raise "Alexis" to be like this. How they were not going to raise a "queer" and Alex needed up to clean up "her" act or "she" could find another place to live because "she" could not stay there if "she" was going to be like that.

"And what if I like the way I am, dad? What if I like that I think I'm a boy, and like that I think I might like Luke?" Alex finally snapped and crossed his arms, and both of his parents were shocked into silence.

"Really, Alex?" Luke asked softly, uncharacteristically quiet for once. He looked up at Alex from the couch where the pair were previously finishing Math homework together, his eyes wide and hopeful.

Alex softened and gave Luke a little smile, nodding slightly. "Yeah, Luke."

"And Luke, how do you feel about our Alexis?" George sneered at Luke and sent him a bitter glare, almost daring the boy to challenge him, and Luke, well, he never said no to a dare or a challenge.

Luke pursed his lips at George and gave him a sickly sweet smile. "Well, I dunno who Alexis is, sir, but I do know that Alex is one of the coolest, smartest, most talented and amazing boys I've ever met." He answered, putting an emphasis on "Alex" and "boys" just to piss George off.

"Luke." Rebecca spoke up, fists clenched and eyes trained on Luke. "Say that again." She ordered slowly, as if asking him to speak again would change the words that came out of his mouth.

Luke scoffed, standing from the cough and dropping his text book to the floor. "I said, ma'am, that Alex is one of the cool, smartest, most talented and amazing boys I've ever met, and I like him, too." He smiled and took Alex's hand in his, giving it a comforting squeeze and smiling when Alex squeezed him right back.

"Get out of this house! Both of you!" George commanded, pointing toward the door.

"Bye!" Alex waved and walked out with Luke, as if this was something perfectly normal and fine, getting on his bicycle. "Let's head to Bobby's. Reggie's already there with him."

So now Alex was taking up residence in the Wilson garage. He guessed he really should've known they would find out some way or another. He wasn't openly telling people he was a boy named Alex, but he also was necessarily acting like the little ballerina princess people used to know as Alexis. No, now he was just that "girl" that always hid "her" hair under hats before just cutting it all off, and that "girl" that played the drums and hanged out in the arcade or played basketball with a bunch of guys.

Reggie came soon after, when his parents' fighting had just become too much for him to handle. Alex always felt bad and wished there was some way he could snap his fingers and magically have everything be fixed, but there was nothing he could do to help anyone. That didn't help his anxiety, either. The only thing that helped, was drumming. So he drummed, a lot.

The boys ended up forming a band that they called Sunset Curve. (Reggie came up with it. Reggie also designed their logo. Both things he was very proud of. And the boys loved it.) It took them a few years, Luke and Alex deciding they were better as friends, Luke moving into the garage, and some gigs at book clubs, but they were starting to get big. Big enough to play The Orpheum.

And then three of them ate some bad hot dogs.

Alex guessed the afterlife wasn't so terrible. Sure, he was dead and he couldn't eat pizza or Bobby's mom's famous meals anymore, but dying brought him and Luke and Reggie to Julie. With Julie came Ray, and Carlos, and Flynn. And sure, he couldn't actually talk to Ray or Carlos, but he could talk to Flynn with Julie's whiteboard or Julie relaying messages to them, so he had that.

And then came Willie.

Sweet, funny, handsome Willie that was nice to him, and answered his questions, and used the name Alex had asked him to. Sweet, funny, handsome Willie that showed him how to move objects by focusing his energy into his hands, and gave him a new coping mechanism for his anxiety. Sweet, funny, handsome Willie that liked to cause trouble with cops, and went by "they" and "them", which Alex would always respect, because he knew what it was like to be misgendered and he was never going to do that to his sweet Willie.

There was just one little thing bothering him on one random Saturday. He hadn't yet told Willie that he himself was trans. He was going to! He wasn't going to keep that a secret from someone sort of like him. He just hadn't gotten around to it yet, but now he would.

"Hey, Wills." He piped up as they were sat in a museum, shouting a little and talking through his stressor of the week.

"Yeah, Hot Dog?" Willie smiled, running their finger through Alex's soft blond locks.

"I'm trans. I'm a trans boy." Alex told him after a moment of hesitation, leaning into Willie's gentle hand.

Willie raised their eyebrows and their smile widened, scooting closer to Alex. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Ok."

"Willie?"

"Hmm?"

Alex blushed and chewed on his lip, taking a deep breath and looking Willie in the eye. "I really like you. A lot."

Willie gasped softly and felt their jaw drop as they looked at Alex, a soft smile forming on their face. "I like you, too, Lexi."

Alex smiled at the way the affectionate nickname sounded on Willie's lips, raising a hand to tuck Willie's hair behind their ear. "Then, can I kiss you?"

Willie let out a giggle and nodded, leaning in slowly. "Yes."

Alex leaned in the rest of the way and pressed his lips against Willie's, his hand grasping Willie's neck gently. He pulled away slowly after a while and bit his lip, still unable to hide the smile on his face. "That felt really good."

"Yeah." Willie agreed.

"Can I do it again?"

"God, yes." Willie nodded immediately. "Yes please, Lexi."

Alex giggled then and kissed Willie again, softer and slower this time.

So, yeah. Maybe the afterlife wasn't perfect, but it came pretty damn close if you asked Alex, so he wasn't going to complain.

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