In the second week of June our family moved into our new house, though it wasn’t exactly new to me. It was the familiar house that I spent my teenage years in Matthew’s timeline and was about to repeat my teenage years as Maya. Our family had been packed inside of the blue Ford Bronco as we followed the moving trucks to the north suburbs of Minneapolis. It wasn’t a long drive, though with an entire house full of appliances and three kids there was a lot to move. The moving truck was backing into the driveway, and we parked in the street in front of the front yard. I hopped out of the backseat and walked up to our new home.

  It was an orange/brown split-level house with a connected two-car garage. The front door opened up to the entryway which led to a TV room and fireplace. To the left was the garage and to the right were half-stairs going up and half-stairs going down. The half-stairs going up led to the kitchen, sitting room, the master bedroom, and Janie’s room. The half-stairs downwards led to the basement lounge, laundry room, as well as Tim’s room and my own. As the oldest, I got the biggest bedroom leaving Tim stuck with the tiniest room. Walking downstairs past the familiar sky-painted wallpaper to my bedroom was like a photograph coming to life. My empty bedroom had a fluffy blue and white carpet which felt immediately familiar to my bare toes.There were the faux wood walls opposite the white stucco, as well as the long closet and the desk built into an odd angle in the wall. Light shone through the window from a below-ground angle of the front yard.

  The movers began hauling in our boxes while Mom and Dad coordinated, and us kids simply wandered around getting our bearings. Eventually boxes marked with our names started appearing out of the moving truck, and Mom called us in to start unloading. I found it amusing that Dad or one of the movers insisted on carrying Janie’s or my boxes to our rooms, but Tim was expected to lug it down himself. Being exempted from manual labor was definitely a perk about being a girl. Not that I could even lift most of these boxes; being generally weaker now was definitely not a benefit.

  I stood at my closet, unpacking my boxes and hanging up clothes. Mom and I had been gradually switching out my wardrobe, and very little of my old clothing remained. Nothing overly girlish, but feminine nonetheless. I had decided that once we moved into the new house that I was going to work at being a girl. It’s not like I had a choice in the matter; it was just going to be easier for myself if I did so. If I was being honest though, I thought it might be enjoyable. However, I had absolutely no idea how to be a girl, even after a year of living as one, and I figured now would be as good a time as ever to learn.

  “Excuse me, miss. We need to get through here,” one of the movers said behind me, carrying pieces of the white frame of my bed. I pushed boxes out of the way while they started hauling down other pieces of my furniture, and I realized that I was getting in the way. I squeezed past them and went out the front door to sit on the porch. The movers weren’t even halfway done emptying out the truck. Bored, I sat on the edge watching everyone work since I couldn’t unpack my things. Eventually, I saw my brother Tim purposefully walk out of the garage and make his way down to the street.

  “Tim,” I called out, chasing after him. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m going to go out and see if there are any kids in the neighborhood,” Tim had decided. He was just the kind of eight year-old boy who would simply ring random doorbells looking for friends. “Mom said it was okay as long as we stayed on our street.”

  I decided to join him, since it seemed like a perfectly innocent way to acclimate myself to the neighborhood I remembered from my previous life. My middle school years of my previous timeline were lonely and isolated, and Matthew had no fond memories of this period in time. With the benefit of foresight, I decided to make a better run this time. If I was going to learn how to be a girl, I needed to get out and be one.

  We made our way, house by house, down the hill. Tim would walk up to the front doors, introduce himself, and ask if any kids lived there. I merely followed him and hung back as he took the lead. The first few doors we knocked on were fruitless; there was a retired couple, a couple with a pair of toddlers, and a house with a girl Tim’s age that he took an instant dislike to. I vaguely remembered these people from Matthew’s memories, but had never actually met them. We got to the fourth house, and Tim bounded up the stairs to knock on the door. A blonde woman a few years older than my Mom answered the door.

  “Hello ma’am,” began Tim with his hands behind his back. “My name is Tim and this is my sister Maya. We just moved in up the hill, and we wanted to know if there are any kids who live here. I’m eight.”

  The woman smiled at Tim’s earnestness. “Well, nice to meet you, Tim and Maya! I’m Mrs. Burgess. I actually have three children. My youngest daughter is four, but my son is thirteen.”

  “Oh,” said Tim disappointedly. “My other sister is three, and Maya is eleven.”

  Her eyes twinkled at me from behind her big glasses. “As it happens, my daughter Erin is also eleven! Let me introduce you. Come inside!”

  We stepped inside, though Tim was already eyeballing the door since he was not interested in a house with no boys his own age. I, however, suddenly remembered whose house this was. In Matthew’s timeline, Korina Burgess, the youngest daughter, would eventually be Janie’s best friend in high school. Her older sister Erin was in my grade, but Matthew had barely known her. Now that I thought about it, she had been the only kid on our old street who was the same age as me, but we never interacted.

  “Erin!” Mrs. Burgess called as she called from the entry. “We have some visitors! I want to introduce you to someone!”

  From downstairs, a girl poked her head through the door, curious. She was shorter than me with a bob of brown hair slightly shorter than mine. Mrs. Burgess continued. “It seems as if we have some new neighbors!”

  I cleared my throat, assembling my friendliest voice and trying not to be awkward. “Hi, my name is Maya and this is my brother Tim. We just moved in up the street. I’m going to be in sixth grade.”

  Erin grinned. “I’m going to be in sixth grade too!”

  “You know,” Mrs. Burgess murmured, “I just made a batch of cookies. Why don’t you girls go upstairs and sit down at the table? You can have some too, Tim.”

  It turns out that Erin was a very sweet girl. We started talking, asking each other about our hobbies and things like that. Tim quietly munched on his cookies as we peppered each other with questions. As Erin started talking about her dance classes, it occurred to me that this was the first time that I had been treated as simply another girl. No discomfort about the oddness of my circumstances, no explanation required about any sort of surprise change in gender. I felt a pleasant sense of acceptance.

  Tim eventually snuck out of their house after devouring his cookies, and I suspected that he was eager to get away from us girls. Erin showed me around her house, eventually ending up in her bedroom where we played with some of her toys and she showed me some of her things. I had spent so much time ostracized by the kids in my old neighborhood and class that I forgot how much simple fun being a kid was. It was also the first time I had spent any amount of time in a girl’s room doing girl things. I made mental notes on how I should eventually decorate my room.

  I ended up having dinner with the Burgesses, where I met Erin’s older brother Robert. Matthew had been friendly with him in his timeline, but he wasn’t exactly interested in one of Erin’s new friends. Her parents asked me questions about myself and my family, which I answered keeping away from anything related to gender changes. I doubt they would have believed me anyway, since nothing about my appearance suggested I was anything but an eleven year-old girl.

  When the streetlights came on that was the signal that it was time to go home. Erin and I made plans to hang out the next day, and with a friendly wave I made for home. I was all smiles as I walked up the hill and back to my house. The moving truck was gone, though there was still some activity around the house. Apparently Uncle Wayne had arrived and was helping Dad install some of the larger appliances, with Tim hovering close by. I nonchalantly entered through the garage and right into Mom who was shifting boxes in the TV room.

  “Young lady, where have you been?” scolded Mom. “I expected Tim to disappear without telling us, but not you!”

  “I was just down the street. I made friends with a girl named Erin.”

  Mom’s anger immediately disappeared. “You made a new friend?” She smiled.

  “Yeah, her name’s Erin Burgess. She’s in the same grade as me. She even has a sister who is Janie’s age.”

  Mom’s smile got even wider. “Maya, that’s so good to hear! Did they feed you?”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  “Well, that’s good to hear. Now go down into your room and start unpacking some things. You don’t have to do everything, but at least put on your sheets so you can sleep tonight.”

  “I told Erin we would play tomorrow,” I explained. “Is that okay?”

  Mom gave me a big hug. “Of course it is, sweetheart. I’m so happy that you’re already making friends! Now go downstairs and unpack.”

  I squeezed past all of the unopened boxes cluttering the hall and made my way to my room. It was funny how in my head it felt so familiar, since I had spent years in this house. It was literally returning home. This house felt even more solid in my memories from Matthew since I spent many more years in this house than the old house. It was the house of my teenage and college years, and was about to be all over again.

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  My bed had been assembled, and my dresser and keyboard were already laid out for me. I dug through all of my random boxes, putting away whatever I could. I found a good place to set up my piano, and started putting whatever books I had on the ledge along the walls. Even though the room wasn’t even halfway set up, I immediately noted that this room wasn’t going to look like it had in Matthew’s memories. But it was still going to be my room.

  I woke up late the next morning, having fallen asleep on top of my blankets. I was a bit disoriented, forgetting that I was in my new room. Or old room, depending on how you thought about it. I sat up and stretched, loving the fact that my eleven year-old body had none of the creaks and pains of adulthood, and stepped around the boxes sprawled all over my room. The new house was going to be chaos for the next few weeks, and I was thankful Mom had had the foresight to unpack our bathroom stuff.

  I was stuck sharing the small downstairs bathroom with my brother Tim, and I saw that he had already left a mess with his toothbrush on the sink. I jumped into the stall to take a quick shower, though I had to be careful because my chest was a little sore that day. I figured it was the way I slept on it, because this was becoming a regular annoyance. After a rinse through my hair, I wrapped my towel around myself and combed out my hair. I was really enjoying having hair to my shoulder, though it still wasn’t as long as I wanted. Mom said it would take time.

  I went back into my room to throw on some clothes; I put on a grayish short-sleeved blouse and a pair of blue overall shorts. I tried tying back my hair into a ponytail, but it looked bad so I just left it. I had to figure out a better way to keep it out of my face at some point. I went upstairs into the kitchen to see my little sister Janie playing with some of her toys and Tim playing his Gameboy. Mom was unpacking dishes and kitchen supplies into the cabinets.

  “Good morning, Maya,” Mom greeted cheerfully. “Your father ran off to bring breakfast home. Would you mind helping me put away some of this kitchen stuff?”

  I gestured to Tim, who was just sitting idly at the table. “Why can’t Tim do it?”

  Mom shot me a look. “Because I asked you, young lady.”

  I didn’t argue, and started pulling out utensils and handing them to Mom. Intuitively, I remembered which utensil went where, since after all I lived in this house for over a decade in Matthew’s timeline. I briefly wondered whether Mom was going to expect me to help her in the kitchen from now on, and I hoped not because I absolutely hated cooking. But I didn’t mind helping unpack because I just knew where everything was going to be. Dad came home about fifteen minutes later, carrying several bags of McDonald's breakfast, and everyone gathered at the table to have our first family meal in the new house.

  “After we’re done eating,” began Mom with a McMuffin in her mouth, “Tim, I want you to help your father in the garage. The girls are going to help me finish up the kitchen and then we’re going to set up the bathroom.”

  “Okay, momma,” said Janie.

  “Why aren’t I helping Dad in the garage,” I asked. “There’s a lot more to do out there.”

  Dad cleared his throat. “You’re older, and the kitchen stuff is more breakable.”

  “So you’re going to let Tim haul around your power tools?”

  “Of course,” smirked Tim, “that job isn't for girls.”

  “Tim, be quiet,” shot Dad, “and Maya, don’t argue.”

  “All I’m saying is that –” I was cut off by the doorbell ringing. Collectively, we all glanced towards the front door, not expecting any visitors. Mom wiped her mouth and stood up to answer the door. I followed her, and from the top of the stairs I saw Erin, the girl from down the street, peeking through the side windows. Mom opened the door.

  “Hello, ma’am. My name’s Erin Burgess and I am here to play with Maya.”

  Mom pursed her lips amusedly. “Well, nice to meet you, Erin! I’m Maya’s mother. Please come in! It’s a bit of a mess at the moment.”

  Erin stepped inside, and I waved as I descended the stairs. “Hey, Erin!”

  “I brought my bike here,” said Erin, “we could ride bikes today, if you wanted to, Maya.”

  “Can I, Mom?” I asked.

  “You know, it’s so hectic here,” observed Mom. “You two should get out of the house today. I think your bike is unpacked and in the garage somewhere.”

  “Hey!!” shouted Tim at the top of the stairs. “Why does Maya get to go out today and I have to unpack?!”

  I flashed a wicked grin at Tim. “You’ve got a job that isn’t for girls, remember?”

  Tim sneered at me and went back to the table to finish breakfast. After introducing Erin to Janie and Dad, who had also arrived on the stairs, the two of us scampered out the door to the garage. I had to dig a bit to pull my green bike out and wheeled it out to the driveway. Erin was already on her white and pink bike.

  “That’s your bike?” Erin asked. “It looks like a boy’s bike.”

  I glanced down at it, suddenly embarrassed. “Oh, I just liked the color,” I pivoted. “So, where are we going to go?”

  “Well, I could show you where the parks and everything is around here.”

  “Sounds good,” I agreed. I knew where everything was, but I decided to be polite and let Erin take the lead. We biked around the block to where Hamilton Elementary was, the school that Tim and Janie would be going to, and the adjoining playground. Hoover Middle School, where Erin and I were going to start sixth grade, was too far to ride to. We biked over to the nearby Tom Thumb, a local convenience store, as well as the nearby library. Apparently Erin liked to read as well, but obviously not all of the grossly complex books I read.

  We spent a lot of time asking each other questions, and I tried to stay relatively quiet. I tried my best to match the way Erin was talking, as if she was my template for girl-talk. She was happy to answer any question, and was generally very chatty. We rode down one street, and Erin told me to pull into one of the houses with her.

  “This is where my friend Danielle lives. Let’s see if she’s home so I can introduce you!”

  We parked our bikes and knocked on the front door. It occurred to me that this was far different than how things went in the 2020s. I don’t think kids from that time could function the way kids did in 1992. Just wandering around without technology, and what’s more without letting their parents know where they were going.

  I was soon introduced to Danielle, a heavier girl with long dark hair. We hung out at her house for a few minutes while we swapped questions, before her younger brother started bothering us. She pulled out her own bike and joined us on our ride. We biked down the street to yet another house, this time of a shorter girl named Carla, another friend of Erin and Danielle’s. Carla was an only child and had a large basement, so we camped out down there while we chattered together. Danielle and Carla were asking me questions about myself, and I tried my best to give appropriate answers. I didn’t want to come across as too smart or anything.

  I made a number of observations about the girls, really trying to emulate them to the best of my ability. I suppose I was still self-conscious about not being “feminine” enough, but I was also thrilled that I was just “one of the girls,” something that I could never have been back in my old town. I felt like I was far more demure than Danielle or Carla, who were quite brazen for eleven year-olds. I had no idea girls could be so bawdy when no one was around. I acted modest because that’s what I thought girls were supposed to do, but Carla had no problem speaking her mind. They all seemed to like me however, and I thought they were fun too.

  Once we got bored of playing games and chatting in Carla’s basement, she jumped on her bike and the four of us roamed around for the rest of the afternoon. There were various kids we saw here and there, but as far as I was concerned I already had my gang. It was funny; in Matthew’s timeline I spent the majority of my middle school years rather isolated and didn’t really make friends for the first year of middle school. As Maya though, I had a group of friends within the first day. Is this how easy it is for girls, or did I just get lucky?

  The sun was starting to sink below the trees, and I figured it was time to go home. The girls rode with me to my house, where Tim and Dad were tossing a baseball in the front yard. Mom was on the front porch with Janie, hanging up a few decorations on the front door. Mom had an amused look on her face when she saw me ride up with my gang of girls, and I had to ask her what our new phone number was. I collected each of the girls’ numbers and handed out my own, and they all waved goodbye as they sped off.

  I sat with Janie and Mom on the porch, chatting about my day while we watched Dad and Tim play catch. Mom wanted to know everything, and I relayed every bit of information about my new friends. Even Dad was impressed that I made so many friends so quickly, since I had had a reputation of not making friends easily when I was Matthew. Janie was hanging off of me as I whispered a concern out of Dad’s earshot.

  “Mom…do I have to tell them about me at some point?”

  Mom blinked. “Tell them what, sweetheart?”

  “You know. How I was born Matthew. How I changed?”

  Mom shrugged. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Your birth certificate says Maya Elizabeth Peterson and that you are a girl. And last time I checked, there’s not one bit of boyness in you. There’s no need to say anything.”

  “I know, but they were so nice, and I had fun, I’m being dishonest, aren’t I?”

  Mom threw her arm around my shoulder. “Maya. This is why we moved to this new house. We wanted you to get a fresh start.”

  I frowned. “I thought it was because Dad got a new job.”

  “That was one reason,” Mom said. “But what pushed us forward was so you could have a chance to live the life you were supposed to.”

  The life I was supposed to. It stung a bit, but was that actually true? Was I supposed to be Maya? Was Matthew’s life meaningless? Decades of memories from the future stuck in the head of a girl in the early 90s? I was grateful that I was going to re-experience my life, and I really liked doing it as a girl. But it stung to think that Matthew’s life essentially would mean nothing.

  I didn’t really respond, but Mom hugged me closer. “Now come on. I ordered a pizza and it should be here any second. Let’s go set the table for everyone.”

  We stood up, and Janie scampered onto my back for a piggy back ride. Even though she was a little peanut of a three year-old, she was way heavier than I remembered. She also brushed me in the chest with her elbow, sending a sharp pain despite the lightness of her touch. God, I hated being reminded of how physically weak I was.

  “Just one thing, Mom,” I said, as I ignored the pain in my breastplate and carried Janie on my back.

  “What’s that, dear?”

  “Um…Erin noticed that I was riding a boy’s bike…we may have to go out and buy a whole new one now.”

  Mom squinted her eyes at me and smirked. “Unless you want to buy one for yourself, you’ll just have to deal with it, kiddo.”