Disclaimer: All characters, events, and material related to The Guardians of Childhood and Rise of the Guardians are owned by William Joyce and DreamWorks Animation. Cover Art by Jake Nickleby.

Warning: This story contains mentions of self-harm and transgender roles. Please reconsider reading this story if you are sensitive to these types of content.

This concept dates back to late February 2013. With 19 months in the making, it's finally time for its debut. I would like to specially thank FanFiction author Alexandra989, for if it weren't for the story, Memories, this story would have never been published.

Treat Me Like a Princess

It was supposed to be like any normal day of middle school, just a regular Tuesday morning for all students from sixth grade through eighth. The same went for a certain seventh grader and one of his close friends, who walked into school to escape the nippy mid-January air a mere few minutes ago. Not that Jamie Bennett minded the cold weather too much. After all, cold meant snow, and snow meant Jack Frost.

Four years have passed since Jamie met the young Guardian, and though he was twelve years old now, he still retained his childhood virtues. Most people admired him for that, other tried to bring him down. Though with his uncaring attitude towards the bullies, they soon got bored and left him alone. He was the type of kid who wouldn't change himself for the sake of others, and would always stick up for those who couldn't defend themselves on their own.

The first period bell was expected to ring in about five minutes, and Jamie and his friend, Claude hurried to their lockers. They casually conversed about their favorite video game while stuffing their extra books and winter jackets into the tiny metal boxes. Claude finished his task first, leaning against his closed locker door. He slicked his fingers against his tall afro. Jamie struggled with a handful of loose pencils, trying to shove it in his backpack, but he managed to fit it all in.

"You coming to class, or what?" Claude asked.

Jamie nodded. "I just need to drop by a bathroom first."

"Want me to wait up for you?" his friend offered.

"Yeah, sure," the twelve-year-old replied. "I'll just need a minute."

Jamie walked into the empty room, thinking he was alone. There was a sniffling noise coming from one of the stalls. Carefully peeking underneath, he saw someone was sitting on the floor. Jamie observed the ensemble the person wore. Brown boots, pink tights, and a pink skirt to match. In an instant, he knew exactly who it was. He got close to the stall, sliding down to his knees.

"Cupcake?" he called, but got no response.

Carefully, he pushed the stall door open. It was luckily the broken stall where the door never latched properly, making it easy for him to get in. No one ever used that bathroom, but he figured she had never been in the boy's bathroom before, and wouldn't have known about the faulty lock. A horrible creak echoed loudly against the acoustics of the room as the door slowly revealed a full view of Cupcake. It was a devastating view once Jamie caught sight of the girl's face. There was a broken look in her eyes, the worst he had ever seen in her.

"Cupcake, are you okay?"

She let out only a whimper, but said nothing in reply to his question. It was obvious she knew of Jamie's presence, but she didn't acknowledge it in any way. Her head was still bowed down, avoiding his concerned gaze. Jamie waited patiently for her to say something to him, to look at him, something for her to do to validate his existence in the room, but she completely ignored him.

Briefly biting his lower lip, he dared to ask her another question, "Cupcake, what are you doing in here?"

To say the least, he was confused seeing an unexpected face in this part of the school. Something must be wrong for her to show up here. A comforting hand placed on her shoulder, but she jerked it out of his reach. Her head snapped up so he could see her honey brown eyes flash with fury.

"Well, I'm a boy, aren't I?" she cried angrily at him, the essence of her trademark growl from childhood lingered in the tone.

"What?" Jamie said, baffled. He was even a little shocked. What did she mean? "Cupcake-"

She shifted her body, her stiffly movements redirected his attention to something she held in her lap. Her hand was pressed down on her crotch, and Jamie saw crimson stains soaked on the fabric of her skirt. She was trying to stop the flow, but it was too much. He stared with horrid fascination, not given the time to think the situation over when the familiar squeaking of the bathroom's entrance opening distracted his thoughts.

"Jamie! You in here, man?" he heard Claude call, his voice bounced off the tiled walls. "C'mon, we're late for class!"

Jamie tried calling to his friend, but somehow he lost control of his voice. All that came out was a wheeze that only he could hear, and the sound of footsteps echoing against the tiled floor told him that the other boy was rounding the corner to where the stalls were. He would see them before Jamie got the chance to say something.

Claude walked in, now in complete view of Jamie kneeling at Cupcake's huddled form in the stall. The blood in between the girl's legs was too evident to not be noticed immediately, and only now did Jamie thought of himself as stupid for not being aware of it sooner.

Claude's eyes grew wide and fearful, but he said and did nothing. Being an athlete with a promising career, the boy was usually quick to react, but the shock was just enough to paralyze him. They were still young, and still hadn't personally experienced much of the world's harsh nature. To see someone, especially someone they knew so well, be in such a critical state was a reality they were not ready to come up against.

A soft, wet sob escaped from Cupcake. Jamie almost let himself get distracted by her convulsive gasp, but he steadied his attention on Claude. He could be his only outlet to signal a rescue. There was a shift in Claude's gaze from the older girl to Jamie, silently pleading with him on what to do.

"Get help," Jamie instructed. His voice was void of emotion, but his eyes held all of the world's sadness.

Claude nodded understandingly, his eyes still wide with fear. Once Claude left the bathroom, Jamie redirected his attention to the girl in distress. Jamie turned his body around, and slowly situated himself next to Cupcake. His arms wrapped around her trembling body. The space in the stall was really tight, and both of them had little room to move.

A teacher rushed in with Claude close behind. He told Claude to tell the secretary to phone in an emergency. Claude nodded, and left the bathroom in a hurry. The teacher asked Jamie to go back to class, but Jamie seemingly ignored him. The man almost scolded him for not following directions, but he realized that he was keeping the injured girl calm, and decided not to press the matter too much until help arrived.

Jamie didn't leave her side, practically lying down in the cramped stall with his arms around her. The lapse of time was forgotten by the boy as he whispered soft, comforting things to her. The moment seemed to have lasted forever, and yet, it seemed to have not passed at all. It was all that Jamie could do, consoling the girl from her distress. He perhaps got a little too comfortable with his own soothing words, as he started to lull himself to sleep along with Cupcake, until one of the staff members grabbed him so that the paramedics could come in.

It took Jamie a moment to bring his disoriented mind back to reality, stumbling to find his own footing. Glancing around the room, the seventh grader saw half a dozen adults cramped in the boy's bathroom. He didn't even notice when so many people had come into the small room. Angry screams of protest resonated in the small confinement of the bathroom stall was enough to snap him out of his fog. His head whipped to the side, but all he could see was the backside of the paramedic attending to the tormented girl.

Jamie took a hesitant step forward, feeling that it was his responsibility to stay, but a pink slip of paper waved in his face stopped him in his path. His eyes trailed to the hand that held the slip, up the person's long arm, until he saw the stern face of another teacher standing next to him. Jamie's focused bounced in between the paper and the teacher's disapproving stare. The boy raised an eyebrow, disconcerted by the bestowing of a pink slip.

Were they really sending him to the principal's office? For what, helping?

Without putting up a fight, Jamie grabbed the pink slip out of the teacher's hand, and stormed out of the bathroom. Once he found an empty hallway, Jamie peeked at the fill-in-the-blank writing on the sheet:

Jamie Bennett [grade 7] is being sent to the principal's office for... skipping class. The student is to be sent home immediately/see principal tomorrow morning before school starts to discuss his detention.

Out of anger, Jamie crumpled up the piece of paper into a ball. His sneaker came in contact with the wall next to him, and he silently cursed to himself. He swung his foot forward, ready for it to come into contact with the wall again, but he stopped midway.

Jamie dropped down and kneeled on the ground, taking deep breaths to regain his composure. He rarely lost his temper, and if anyone had caught him in the act would have been frightened. Everyone was just so used to his optimistic and laid back personality, that any uncharacteristic move was something no one wanted to see. That Bennett kid just lost his cool? The universe must be ending.

Jamie finally reached his destination. He gave himself a humorless chuckle as he continued down the hall. His classmates made him seem like he was violent and dangerous when he was angry, but that wasn't the case. They just didn't like to see him other than his usual happy self. It was a fact of life that they accepted, and they didn't want their simple world changed.

Tentatively, Jamie pushed to door open. His mother was waiting in the office for him, speaking in a low voice to one of the secretaries. They must have called her once the staff members involved couldn't get him to go back to class. Catching sight of the seventh grader, the secretary nodded her head in the boy's direction. His mother's voice dropped abruptly, and quickly turned herself around.

He thought his mom would be mad at him, or at least disappointed, for skipping class. But when he saw her face, he knew instantly that she was neither. Instead, she walked right to him and put her hands on his shoulders. Jamie lifted his head up until his gaze met hers. Her eyes, like his before, held all of the world's sadness. Pulling his body close to hers, she hugged him.

Jamie felt a little bashful. He was fine; he didn't need to be comforted. Then the image of Cupcake bleeding between her legs came to mind, and he gripped his mother a little tighter. He could still hear her screams directed towards the paramedics echoing in his head. There was so much confusion. Why would Cupcake do that to herself?

Jamie's mother brought him home after that, allowing him have the day off from school. For her to let him skip school was a pretty big deal. His mother rarely, if ever, let her children miss school for no apparent reason. If he was any other kid, he probably would have been thrilled to avoid a boring day of class lectures and homework assignments. Any other kid would fill up the empty hours with video games and junk food, but Jamie crawled into bed and fell asleep for the rest of the morning.

Jamie was very smart, but this was something he couldn't comprehend. Why was she hiding in the boy's bathroom? And why did she claim that she was a boy? The contemptuous remark she had yelled at him never made sense to him.

"Cmon, Jamie!" an enthusiastic voice by the window called. "You up for a fight?" The sound of something solid hitting skin in a rhythmic pattern signaled to the twelve-year-old that a single snowball was being juggled in the hand of the speaker.

Jamie didn't bother moving. He couldn't be sure if his friend was actually there, for he could have been dreaming, but in his daze, he mumbled a reply to him anyway. "Not now, Jack..."

"Wait a minute, shouldn't you be in school right now?" Jack asked, his tone changing to one of worry. He took a step through the window, one naked foot against the bare floor. The sound of his staff hitting the sill clattered noisily in the silent room. "What are you doing in bed?"

"I said, not now, Jack..." Jamie mumbled again, a little more desperately this time. As the Guardian jumped up at the foot of Jamie's bed, it was apparent that he still didn't listen to his first believer. The bed groaned, bending underneath the weight of the boy's visitor.

"Are you sick? You were fine yesterday," the winter spirit observed, leaning closer to get a better view of the adolescent's pale face. Jamie shot up in bed.

"Jack, please!" Jamie pleaded, his eyes flashing with anguish and desperation.

Jack became instantly quiet. Slowly, he lowered his bright, blue eyes away from the boy. Though he tried to hide it, the guilt was evident in his eyes. His lips pursed slightly in thought, then eventually he looked back up at Jamie.

"Okay," he said finally. There was a substantial pause until he spoke again. "I get it. I'll... I'll check on you tomorrow." The extra weight on the bed shifted as the immortal made an attempt to move to the open window. "Feel better, okay?"

Large brown eyes stared regretfully at the beholder's role model, a stunned silence hung in the air. Words of apology got lost in his throat as he choked back a sob. He bit his lip, then after releasing a calming breath, he spoke.

"I'm sorry," Jamie whispered. He watched Jack as he stood up and casually walk towards the window.

"Don't worry about it," he reassured, the carefree attitude surfaced in his voice once again. The lively bounce in his step was found as he hopped up on the sill, ready to fly along the winter breeze. "Just be ready for another snowball rampage. You owe me, kiddo!"

At that, Jamie let out a laugh. A trail of tears streamed down his cheeks, and promptly he wiped it away with his shirtsleeve. He frowned in confusion. Why would he spontaneously cry at something that made him smile? Letting out a soft groan, he frustratedly rolled back into bed. He really didn't know how to feel about today. Everything was just so messed up. His eyes closed. The best he could do was to pray that tomorrow was going to be better.

Jamie arrived to school exceptionally early the next morning. He didn't even try to hide the disappointed sigh he released as he walked through the office entrance. A couple of staff members were in, but neither outright acknowledged his presence. Without a word, Jamie shifted the weight of his backpack with the tug of one strap, and made his way to an empty waiting chair in the lobby.

The large clock mounted on the wall ticked loudly. The seventh-grader anxiously watched the second hand as it passed every bolded number. It could be at least another fifteen minutes before the principal arrived in his office. Slumped in the chair, Jamie propped his elbow up against the armrest and rested his head against his hand. He forced his eyes to stay open, but that was proving to be a difficult task as each minute passed by.

"Jamie?" the principal greeted, surprised to see a student nodding off in the waiting room at seven-thirty in the morning. Jamie snapped his head up, eyes now wide. Once he gained composure, the boy stood up, pulling the strap of his backpack back over his shoulder. He looked up at the principal, and the man continued, "What are you doing in here?"

"To discuss my detention?" Jamie suggested dubiously, trying to mask the funny look he wanted to give. Wasn't it obvious why he was here? "For skipping class yesterday?"

His principal looked stricken by something. Shifting uncomfortably, the school official glanced somewhere in the room as he thought over a response. He turned back to the middle schooler, taking a deep breath before he spoke. "Jamie, I think there's a misunderstanding here..."

"What do you mean?" Jamie asked flatly. "I mean, the pink slip said-"

"That pink slip was supposed to be a pass to excuse you to the office. Whatever was written on that sheet should have said that you were exempt." There was a pause as the principal looked over the younger male with empathetic eyes. "Jamie, that wasn't right for them to do that. If any of the teachers told you that you were skipping class, you need to please tell me."

"I don't think that really matters anymore..." the twelve-year-old student said indifferently.

"Of course it does, Jamie..." the principal reassured softly.

"But does it change the fact that I found Cupcake bleeding in the boy's bathroom?" Jamie pointed out.

He sighed. "I'm really sorry about your friend, Jamie. I truly am."

You're just saying that, Jamie thought bitterly to himself. You have to, it's your job.

"Do you still have the detention slip?" his principal asked. Jamie nodded, and the man extended his hand out. Reaching into his back pocket, he handed over the unsightly pink paper. Without taking his eyes off of the twelve-year-old, he ripped up the sheet into quarters. "It's done," he stated, raising up the torn squares in his hands.

The principal motioned for Jamie to leave, and slowly he turned around, unsure what to do with himself. It was too early for the classrooms to be open. Hopefully, the library was unlocked by now. Jamie retreated to an empty table in the very back, and using his backpack as a pillow, laid his head down on top of it.

A million solutions rapidly passed through his mind as he tried to work out his problems. His thoughts seemed to morph into strange images, and somewhere in his subconscious, he knew that he had dozed off and started dreaming.

"Hey," a soft voice called, and Jamie felt a light shake on his shoulder. He lifted his head to see the concerned faces of his friends. Claude was the closest, still having his hand rested on the boy's shoulder. Monty was to the left, blue eyes blinking worriedly from behind Claude. Turning his head to the right, he now noticed Pippa standing nearby. Jamie half-wondered in his foggy mind where Caleb was, but he soon saw him walk up behind the rest of them.

"What time is it?" Jamie asked them groggily, stretching out his stiff muscles.

"Almost time for class, man," Claude answered in a low voice, giving Jamie one last pat on the shoulder before turning away to exit out of the building. Monty and Caleb followed, and Pippa glanced anxiously at him before she mimicked the other boys' actions. She looked as if she wanted to tell him something, like they all had something to say to Jamie, but they all brushed it off. Jamie tried to not take it personally.

Two more days passed, and Cupcake still hadn't shown up. His friends claimed that Jamie was obsessing over it, but he knew they were wrong. Any true friend would still be worrying. Cupcake was taken away to a hospital. Actual EMTs were on their campus to take her away, strapped to a gurney because she wouldn't stop thrashing around. She was most likely discharged at this point, though no one had heard from her since Monday.

"Forget her, man!" Claude yelled, exasperated.

"I can't," Jamie said simply, standing from his seat and walking away. He wanted to be angry with Claude. How could he say that? Out of everyone in their group of friends, how could Claude have the nerve to say that? He saw the aftermath of what Cupcake did to herself. He wanted to be angry, yet he couldn't find it in himself to be. He was too tired and too worried about Cupcake to fight them.

Jamie ate lunch alone that day.

It was finally Friday, and nothing had changed. Cupcake was still gone, Jamie still hadn't figured out what went wrong, and he was still mad at the rest his friends when he woke up that morning. He avoided them all day, even when he noticed Pippa kept trying to get his attention. He just wasn't ready to face them yet. Of course, that would be a difficult task to do when he shared classes with them. Pippa was sure to corner him in fourth period, right before lunch. Though when the dreaded moment came, Jamie found out that it wasn't so bad.

Pippa apologized to him if she had seemed insensitive to his feelings the day before. She explained that she only wanted him to not stress himself out so much because she was afraid for him as well. The news spread around the school like wildfire, and rumors were spawned from it. Apparently, the rest of them were being harassed over it, and were trying to keep quiet out of respect for the eighth grader. None of them, asides from Claude and Jamie himself, had seen for themselves what happened to Cupcake.

Jamie also apologized to Pippa for misinterpreting her reaction, but he still declined her invitation to join them for lunch. He still needed time alone to think. On his way home from school in the afternoon, Jamie walked to Cupcake's apartment. A woman, not too far apart in age from his own mother, opened the door. A flicker of surprise flashed on her face for a split moment before it faded into a softer look.

"Hi, is Cupcake home?" Jamie asked.

The woman smiled. "You must be Jamie," she said, mustering a small smile. He nodded. She swung the door wider to allow room for Jamie to enter. "Please come in," she welcomed. Jamie followed her through the foyer.

Cupcake's mother went down the hall, peeking her head into a room. Jamie could hear her voice murmur to someone inside. Then she shut the door, and walked back down the hall. She glanced at Jamie, and told him, "She'll be out in a minute." With the wave of her hand, she gestured to the couch in the small space used as a living room. "Please make yourself at home."

"Thank you," Jamie said before Cupcake's mother walked past him and rounded the corner, to an even smaller room that Jamie assumed was the kitchen. Even though she offered, Jamie awkwardly stood in the middle of the room, unsure of what he should do with himself while he was waiting for Cupcake. Taking in his surroundings, Jamie figured it was a better way of passing the time than just standing there.

Jamie's attention was captured by a wall covered with framed pictures, a whole history of one family told in photographs. One small frame leveled with his eyesight was crooked, hanging by a thin, fraying wire. Hesitantly, he took a hold of it, taking it off the wall to attempt to fix it. He only allowed himself a glimpse of a young Cupcake behind the glass before he flipped it to the backside, absently wondering why his friend looked a little off in the picture. With the wire fixed, Jamie moved to replace the empty spot, but he distracted himself with the rest of the wall display.

There were pictures of a little boy, holding a resemblance to his friend. He didn't know Cupcake had a younger sibling. Scanning across all the pictures framed on the wall, he realized there were no baby pictures of Cupcake. It was all of the little boy, and none of her. Jamie frowned at the discovery. That's terrible! How could any parent play favorites on their own children?

His eyes continued to search the photographs, but then he realized that the image of the little boy ceased. Okay... now this was getting too weird. No baby pictures of Cupcake, and no recent pictures of the little boy? What was going on?

There was a large portrait right in the center of all the others. There was a studio backdrop with blue skies and pink clouds. The child was dressed in a brightly colored princess gown, and her cheeks blushed pink with adoration. In the child's arms was a stuffed unicorn. Her dark curls were short like the little boy's, but now it looked more feminine with the royal-inspired headband in her hair.

The image blurred the features of the little boy and Cupcake together. Then it clicked. There was no younger sibling. It had been Cupcake all along.

Cupcake came walking out of her bedroom, wrapped in a white, fluffy robe and hair clean. She had her head hung down as she walked down the short hall, slowly lifting it up to see Jamie with the picture frame in his hands. She flinched, startled, and her eyes flashed with fear, but it quickly turned to anger. She rushed towards him so quickly, that Jamie barely had any time to react.

"Don't look at that!" she yelled, snatching the photo away, and pressing the glass front protectively against her chest to shield it from his view. She turned her head to the side to avoid Jamie's gaze. Not that it did much good; Jamie could still clearly see the tears settled in her eyes. He watched her carefully before saying anything.

"I get it," Jamie said calmly. "You were born a boy." He paused to swallow. "But that's not who you are. You're a girl, always have been."

Cupcake snapped her head up, honey brown eyes finally meeting chocolate ones. Pure shock washed over her face, with sheer horror seeping into her features. A voice calling down the hallway interrupted their tense silence.

"Do you need anything, Cupcake?" her mother asked softly. "I'm making a snack. Would you or your friend like some?"

Cupcake quickly glanced at Jamie, who lightly shook his head. "We're fine, Mom," she called back.

"Love you, my little cupcake," her mother said warmly, returning back to the kitchen.

"Love you, too..." she mumbled back awkwardly, giving Jamie a quick, embarrassed glance. She shuffled her weight from one foot to the other, avoiding conversation with her schoolmate.

"So that's why everyone calls you Cupcake..." Jamie realized. Cupcake nodded in response.

"My mom called me that long before the transition," she explained, placing the photograph she held back on the wall. "Like it didn't matter that I was a boy or a girl. Whichever gender I was, I was always her little cupcake."

Jamie smiled at the girl's fond memory, sweet and far less troubled than what their lives were today. He imagined what she was like when she was much younger, before they had even met. Would their friendship be any different if he had known Cupcake when everyone had perceived her as a boy? It was something he didn't want to dwell on. They were friends now. That's all that mattered, not whether he had first known Cupcake as a boy or a girl.

Cupcake hung her head in shame, letting a few tears drop down on the carpet below their feet. "Puberty is just... awful..."

Jamie looked a little scared, realizing why Cupcake was bleeding in the bathroom. She was trying to cut her penis off. He wondered what kind of tool she could've used, as there was a zero-tolerance policy at their school.

"It's... it's tormenting to see something every day that's not supposed to be there. It's a birth defect. It's not supposed to be there!" The more she spoke, the more upset she got. Her voice raised, and the tears filled her eyes quicker with each word she shouted out. She bit her lip to stop herself. The heel of her hand pressed against her right eye, preventing the droplets from falling down her cheeks.

He couldn't imagine the feeling, but his heart still went out to her.

Cupcake breathed in deeply, calming herself from her rage. "You know, for a twelve-year-old, you understand more than most adults do," she said honestly. "I just wish there was more people like you out there in the world." Jamie gave her a proud smile, almost missing the troubled look that flashed on her face.

"My birth dad left about seven years ago," she confessed. "He couldn't handle the fact that I wasn't a boy." Jamie was stricken, thinking her words over. Not everyone was accepting of her change, not even her own family. He knew what it was like to lose a father, but he couldn't imagine his own father leaving because he didn't love his children anymore.

"I used to go through tantrums when I was in preschool," she recalled. "Got a bully reputation at school, growling at anyone who made me mad." The rages that Cupcake had in elementary school started to make sense now to Jamie.

"My parents had to hold me down whenever they took me to get a haircut." She let out a tearful laugh. "Probably would've caused the barber to stab himself with all my thrashing." Jamie couldn't find it in himself to laugh with her. It was just too sad.

"The doctors said I was going through depression," she explained. "I was barely five when they said that." A four-year-old going through depression... Jamie didn't know anyone could go through that at such a young age. It seemed impossible.

The older girl pointed to a black-and-white wedding portrait on the wall. An eight-year-old Cupcake stood right in between the happy couple, her arms slung over their shoulders as they hoisted her up in their grip. Her mouth was wide with an open-mouthed smile, as if she heard the best joke in her life. She looked so proud in her white satin dress and floral crown.

"My mom remarried two years after my birth dad left, and we moved here," she said. "That's when I started second grade." Jamie remembered that school year when he and his friends first saw Cupcake. They were all in first grade, a year younger than she was.

"And your stepdad?" Jamie asked curiously.

Cupcake was painfully silent for a while. In real time, it must have lasted for all of five seconds, but for the two middle schoolers, it seemed like it lasted for the rest of the afternoon. Finally, Cupcake spoke in a low voice, "He accepts me as his daughter..."

A sense of relief washed over Jamie. He knew that Cupcake deserved to have a devoted father figure. The two of them stood in a comfortable silence before another idea struck the boy.

"You've never told anyone..." he said simply. It was never a question.

Cupcake tried to mask her pain again, like she always did, but the younger boy was able to recognize it so clearly now. "Middle school is hard enough, Jamie. Would you have told?"

"I honestly don't know..." he answered truthfully, and Cupcake looked appreciative of his answer. They fell quiet again for an indeterminate length of time, his hand slowly found its way to hers. "I see you..." he started. "As you want to be seen."

Cupcake's arms reached out for Jamie, and wrapped them around his body in a warm, tender embrace. Closing her eyes, she whispered, "Thank you..."

Cupcake recovered quickly over the next few months, having taken blockers and hormonal shots for almost six months. She looked healthier and happier, and before either of them knew it, the school year was finally ending.

The eighth grade graduates were guests of honor at the end-of-the year dance. Bright, colored lights flashed all around the auditorium, in time with the thumping electropop remixes. Store-bought streamers and balloons filled the halls. All the attendees were dressed up in semi-formal wear, a requirement for the more ceremonial events at school. The boys wore dress shirts and slacks, but weren't needed to wear ties or blazers. Girls typically wore sparkly cocktail dresses.

Jamie leapt from the crowd, landing by the graduate's side. "Congrats, Cupcake!"

"Thanks..." she mumbled. Jamie almost laughed. It was just like Cupcake to act all cold and unenthusiastic when really she was just nervous.

"Next year is going to be different without you," Jamie confessed, hoping that emotions hadn't betrayed him. There was a flash of sadness and fear in his eyes, but fortunately for his sake, the older girl had missed it.

"It's only high school," Cupcake reasoned. "You'll be there the year after."

"And we can always hang out on the weekends," Jamie suggested.

A soft, genuine smile flickered on her face. "I think I'd like that."

Jamie stood there, staring at her in awe.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"You look... really pretty, Cupcake," Jamie observed.

"I probably look stupid," she mumbled miserably, glancing down at the lavender party dress she had on.

"Stupid? Nah..." he laughed lightly. "You look-"

"Like a girl?" she suggested, dry wittingly.

"I was going to say princess," he corrected.

"Do not," she argued.

"You're right," he agreed. "You're missing something..."

Jamie pulled out a silver tiara from behind his back, catching the light on the rhinestones. He lifted his arms, and carefully placed it on the top of her head. Raising himself slightly on tip-toes, he leaned close to Cupcake until his lips pressed lightly on her forehead. Slowly, he pulled away, and Cupcake let out a soft gasp. Tearfully, she opened her eyes to see Jamie smiling proudly at the young woman in front of him.

She really did feel like a princess.

The End

Author's Note: This story was inspired by any of my male students who wanted to wear a princess gown in our classroom's imaginative play center. While these boys are not (or will be) necessarily transitioning to another gender, it did get me thinking more about transgender children. The courage that these children have for themselves to become who they want to be is absolutely remarkable and admirable, and it is unfair for them to feel unsafe in their school environment. None of them should have to feel that way.

I wrote this story as a mean to do more research on the subject. As an educator, I want to be able to bring this knowledge to the classroom. This story is mainly inspired by the story of Josie Romero (news coverage story, "Living a Transgender Childhood" can be found on YouTube). For more information on supporting transgender children, please visit resources such as genderspectrum org.

13 September 2014