<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" standalone="yes"?><oembed><version><![CDATA[1.0]]></version><provider_name><![CDATA[Gender Expressive]]></provider_name><provider_url><![CDATA[https://genderexpressive.wordpress.com]]></provider_url><author_name><![CDATA[genderexpressive]]></author_name><author_url><![CDATA[https://genderexpressive.wordpress.com/author/genderexpressive/]]></author_url><title><![CDATA[Cis-perience: Chapter 4]]></title><type><![CDATA[link]]></type><html><![CDATA[<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Risha, I’m getting ready to get into the elevator. I’ll need to call you back.”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">Kaylee knew that excuse wouldn’t work, but she really needed to get her off the phone. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to fill her roommate in on all the details of last night’s date, but much of the conversation wasn’t appropriate to have it in a crowded office building. Risha had a commanding voice normally, but excitement amplified it considerably. With how loudly she was coming through the phone, it was like she had it set to speaker. </span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“You can </span><i><span style="font-weight:400;">not</span></i><span style="font-weight:400;"> leave me hanging like this!” Risha insisted. “I need details!”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“If you wanted that so bad you shouldn’t have spent the night at Lauren’s place.”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Girl, you know I ain’t gonna pass up a chance for me and my girl to…”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Gotta go, bye!” Kaylee said before quickly hanging up the phone. People in the lobby were already starting to look at her, and she didn’t need Risha to blurt out the details of Lauren sitting on her face last night. She loved Risha like a sister, and often was jealous of her brave, proud demeanor. But it was time to go to work. The gossip hour would have to wait until this evening.</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">Kaylee loved going to work. She’d spent her young life in the backwoods of the Appalachian mountains, dreaming of having a posh life in the city. The bright lights striped across the ceiling reflected off the glossy, beige floor. The clicks of dress heels and polished men’s shoes echoed off the brown and silver walls like she was in a cathedral. A large, flat TV hung on the wall just before the row of four elevators. Upon the screen, Rachel Maddow recounted the top stories of the day. Finely dressed business men and women crisscrossed the lobby while talking on cellphones or sat upon benches along the wall with computers in their laps. It all coalesced into a snapshot of big-city life, and even though she’d called it home for almost three years now, it always felt as it did on day one.</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">The elevator doors opened as she approached them. Others waiting had already pressed the call button, but it added to the overall feeling of the universe just falling into place for her. She barely felt her feet on the ground because, to her, it felt like she was walking on clouds. Her mind was locked on that kiss. Her skin still tingled from being pressed against the stubble on Brandon’s face. She remembered the feel of his hands on her hips. No matter how things went with him from now on, she hoped it would never tarnish that moment they’d shared. He still didn’t know she was trans, and if things were to continue he’d eventually have to know, but for now she was living her own metropolitan fairytale. </span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">The polished, silver doors closed and the elevator took off. She spent the ride looking at her reflection in them, though she ignored the fact that she was the tallest person in the elevator. Kaylee was a vision in her cream colored, flowy dress pants and silky, short-sleeved black blouse. Her black pumps raised her another inch off the ground, but she was addicted to the way they clicked on the linoleum floor when she walked. She was the image of a woman with success, a woman with looks, and now a woman with a hot guy yearning for her.</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">If only she could&#8217;ve been a woman with a vagina; then she’d have it made.</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">Kaylee got off on the 17th floor. The offices for DCS was at the end of the hallway. Double glass doors with the company logo emblazoned across them awaited her at the end of the tan carpeted corridor. Kaylee pulled on the long, stainless handle and made her way into the office.</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Hello, Kaylee,” the receptionist said with a smile. She was a portly, pale woman with short, curly brown and silver hair. Her thick-rimmed glasses were suspended by a chain of large, obviously fake “diamonds’. </span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Good morning, Madison,” Kaylee replied with a smile. She heard a few more hellos on her way to her desk. She shared a block of cubicles with three other people. She was grateful to have made it to this point in her career, but her eye was always on one of the private offices along the walls with a 17th floor view of uptown Charlotte. Years ago she was amazed they even let her stay on after coming out to human resources; today she was hungry for a promotion.</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">She set her stuff on the desk as her phone buzzed in her purse. She fished it out and tapped the screen. REMINDER: Staff Meeting &#8211; 15 Minutes. She didn’t really need the reminder since it was how every Friday morning started off, but she never bothered to delete it. </span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“So, how is Kaylee this morning?” a voice asked from her left. </span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">She smiled as she turned. The man at the desk next to her was rather short, with olive skin and overly-gelled short black hair. He was sharply dressed, too, with a freshly pressed pair of black pants and royal blue shirt. His tie was silky and solid black, done up at the collar with a fancy knot that looked like a flower. </span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“I’m </span><i><span style="font-weight:400;">wonderful</span></i><span style="font-weight:400;">!” Kaylee exclaimed. “How is Bashir?”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Bashir leaned back in his seat and stared at the ceiling. “Just living the dream, like every other day,” he replied sarcastically. </span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">Kaylee sat in her seat and pulled up her email client. After sifting through a few messages, she noticed Bashir’s eyes focused on her. “Something up?” she asked.</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Was about to ask you that,” he answered. “Curious to know why you’re grinning so much.”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Well,” Kaylee said as she pushed her rolling chair away from the desk. “I had a date last night.”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Did you now?” Bashir said. He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “Guy or girl?”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Guy.”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Hot?”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">Kaylee gave an exaggerated laugh. “As fuck.”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">Bashir rubbed his hands together eagerly. “I need pictures.”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">The request gave Kaylee pause. “Um&#8230;I actually don’t have any.”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">Leaning back again, Bashir put up his hands. “Well, as you Americans say: pics or it didn’t happen. Just pull up his Facebook.”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">Kaylee grabbed her phone. “I’ll have to find him.”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“You went out with this guy and didn’t already friend him?”</span><span style="font-weight:400;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-weight:400;">“Not yet.”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Why?”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Because…” Kaylee paused as she typed his name into the Facebook search box. His profile was the first result. She smiled as she beheld a picture of him in baggy blue shorts and a white tank top. He was outdoors with a group of guys. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes. He was just so dreamy. “Because he doesn’t know I’m trans yet.”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">Bashir’s eyes opened wide. He slid his chair around his desk and into her cubicle. “You mean he couldn’t tell?”</span><span style="font-weight:400;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-weight:400;">Kaylee raised an eyebrow. “Gee, thanks,” she said sarcastically.</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“I didn’t mean it like that,” Bashir corrected. “But you didn’t tell him?”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“No.”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Why not?”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Why should I have to?”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Well, don’t you think he has a right to know if he’s dating you? Maybe he’s not into trans women.”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">Kaylee closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “If he’s into women, then trans or cis shouldn’t matter.”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">Bashir smirked. “Well, we both know we don’t live in ‘Should-land’.”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Here’s his picture,” Kaylee said as she turned the phone to him. The conversation was starting to piss her off and she hoped this would stop the uncomfortable turn things were taking.</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Damn, he </span><i><span style="font-weight:400;">is</span></i><span style="font-weight:400;"> cute!” Bashir exclaimed. </span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“I know, right?!”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Send him a friend request.”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">Kaylee siged. “I told you, I’m not ready for that.”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Because he’ll find out you’re trans if he stalks your page?”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Yes.”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">Bashir rolled back to his desk. “So it’s no big deal to not tell him, but it is a big deal that he not find out? Don’t you think that’s a bit hypocritical?”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Fuck you!” Kaylee said louder than the meant to. A couple eyes in the neighboring cubicles turned to them, but soon went back to their computer screens. </span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Look, honey,” Bashir started. “You know I love you. You know I support your and I will personally be cheering for you two to fall madly in love and for him to have a huge cock you get to ride into next week.”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">Kaylee snickered. </span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“But if it’s not important for him to know you’re trans, then it can’t be important to keep it from him.” There was a pause. Clicking keys and ringing phones were the only sounds in the open office space. Bashir turned back to his keyboard. “I only say it because I love you, girl.”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">Kaylee just sat there. She felt deflated. If Risha were there, Bashir would be getting an ear-full about trans women being just as valid as cis women and that she had a right to privacy. Risha had a much stronger spirit than she did. Kaylee knew it was right, but she did feel like a hypocrite. Thoughts of how Brandon would react if he found out kept popping up in her mind, and she tried her best to push them away. She didn’t want to face them, not yet. She was enjoying her chance to feel like it wasn’t something she had to worry about. </span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“We gotta get to the boardroom,” Kaylee said softly.</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">With her laptop under her arm and a coffee cup in her free hand, Kaylee pushed through the glass door on the far wall and stepped into the boardroom. Easily the largest room in the office space, it had eight foot tall windows across the entire wall. The full beauty of the uptown Charlotte skyline served as the backdrop of each day’s business. The table at the center of the room was roughly twenty feet long with a sleek, black, polished surface. A microphone and wall outlet was built in at every seating spot along the table. A projector sat suspended from a beam in the ceiling, casting the image of the DCS logo onto a white backdrop on the wall. </span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">Kaylee took her seat and set her stuff on the table. She took a deep breath as she unlocked the screen on her laptop. </span><i><span style="font-weight:400;">Don’t let him kill your high, Kaylee.</span></i><span style="font-weight:400;"> When her desktop came up it was all set to go. The data from her meeting at the airport was front and center. </span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Good morning, everyone,” said a commanding voice from the door. Donald Reed, or ‘Don’, was a middle-aged man with a golden tan and most of his hair gone. He sported a thick moustache and small set of reading glasses. A gray and white suit covered his tall, chubby body. “I trust everyone is ready to get started.</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Yes sir,” said all in attendance, Kaylee included. She took a sip of her coffee. </span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">Don took a seat near the end closest to the screen. “First things first. I need an update on where we are with the Barren Industries account. Kyle, you’re up.</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">Kaylee took a long, deep breath and closed her eyes.</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Er, sorry,” Don corrected. “Kaylee.”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Thank you,” Kaylee said as she stood. </span><i><span style="font-weight:400;">Almost two years to the day and he still fucks that up sometimes.</span></i><span style="font-weight:400;"> “I spent about two hours with Mr. Barren yesterday and took him to dinner. He had very few concerns and I’ve already emailed those out to everyone. He’s ready to see the full presentation before he flies back out on Tuesday.”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Is he staying all weekend just to wait on us?” A woman at the far end of the table asked.</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">Kaylee shook her head. “His daughter lives in Matthews, so he’s visiting her.”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Excellent work, Kaylee,” Don said with a smile. </span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Thank you, sir.” Kaylee’s phone screen lit up. She knew to keep it on silent during meetings, or else Don would have scolded her for the distraction. She glanced down. It was a text from Roxy. </span><i><span style="font-weight:400;">Could my roommates please wait till five to beg me for gossip?</span></i><span style="font-weight:400;"> She slid the phone under the table and pulled up the message: ‘hon u c this? There was a link attached. She glanced up. Don was talking to Josh about financials, which had nothing to do with her. Convinced she wouldn’t be needed for a moment, Kaylee clicked open the link. </span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">It was a CNN article. First she saw a mug shot of a large, white male with no hair and a thick beard. The title popped up next, and she immediately saw why Roxy had sent it to her. NORTH CAROLINA MAN CHARGED WITH MOLESTING TEEN GIRL IN WOMEN’S RESTROOM. Her stomach turned. Her mind filled in much of the story with just the image and the title, but she read on anyway.</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><i><span style="font-weight:400;">‘TAYLORSVILLE-NC: A 40 year old man from Alexander County has been charged with following a teenage woman into the women’s restroom at the Taylorsville Walmart and exposing himself to her. Authorities were alerted to the Walmart at 5:40pm on Friday evening. After being shouted out of the restroom by the victim and several other women, the man continued to shop in the store. Store management followed him until police arrived, at which point he was arrested for indecent exposure.’</span></i></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">Kaylee gritted her teeth. She could already hear the comments people would make against trans people because of this. The state had infamously dealt with transgender bathroom issues in the past, and it was still a hot-button issue. The thought of reading any more made her nauseous. </span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Kaylee!” Don said loudly.</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">Her boss shouting shook her from her thoughts. She looked up. All eyes were upon her. “Yes?”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Something taking your attention away from this meeting?” Don asked sternly.</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“I&#8230;uh&#8230;got a news alert on my phone,” she answered, only half lying.</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">“Anything important?” Don asked. “Anything we should be worried about?”</span></p>
<p style="text-align:justify;"><span style="font-weight:400;">Kaylee sighed as she gazed out the window. The sky was getting cloudy, and the regular reflections of sunlight in the adjacent buildings was fading. “I really hope not.”</span></p>
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