Light Transcends

I’m not really a summer person. The weather is wonderful and having the time off from school is great, but it calls for short shorts and dresses. I love short shorts and dresses, but having a penis really makes wearing them rather difficult. Summer has always supplied the eyes with numerous good-looking boys running around in shorts or trunks, and, well… My eyes aren’t the only parts of me that end up enjoying the scene. So dresses and short shorts aren’t always the best clothing decision.

I have a date today though, so I figure a dress will be okay. One of my moms just bought me a simple, but very pretty halter top lavender dress with a light, made-for-summer, shawl. I have sheer, black tights with a criss-cross pattern that’ll make my black heels much more comfortable. Plus I have a lavender clip that looks like a large flower; I just got auburn hair extensions that are long and wavy, but somewhat hard to manage due to all the breezes.

“Samuely?” My mom, Stacey, tapped on my door before walking in. I looked at her in my mirror and set down my new hairbrush. She smiled and walked up behind him. She took the brush in her hand and started to brush my hair, “When are you meeting up with Jacques?”

I gulped, “In a few hours – around seven.” I relaxed against her while she continued to gently brush my hair. I smiled at her in my mirror and said barely above a whisper, “I love you.”

She smiled and kissed the top of my head. “I love you, too. So does Sheryl.”

I drew in a deep, happy breath, “I’m so glad I have you two for parents.”

She put my brush down and then put her hands on my shoulders. “You are not a freak.”

I did my best to fight back my tears.

She kissed the top of my head again, “You’re wonderful, man or woman. Just focus on getting ready, feeling pretty.”

I drew in another breath.

She patted my shoulders and walked out of my room. I gently wiped away my fresh tears, fanned my face, and decided that my mom is right. I’m not a freak; I’m a person. I may be physically born a man, but I know I’m a woman. I just hope Jacques can understand that.

xXx

Jacques came to my house two minutes before I finished my make-up. I went with a natural look, mostly just evening out my skin and adding a touch of bronzer and blush to add to the apples of my cheeks – it makes my face more feminine. I drew in a deep breath at my bedroom door before slowly walking out.

I walked into the kitchen; Jacques and my moms are in mid conversation. My mom, Sheryl, is taking a small cup of tea back from him. He stood up the second he saw me and said, “You look very nice.”

I can die just listening to his wonderful French accent. That combined with the shinny black dress shoes, his grey, perfectly darted slacks, plus his grey suspenders and black blazer. His golden watch and black beret emphasized his medium frame and facial cuteness. He took my right hand, kissed it, and then asked, “Would you like to go now?”

I smiled, “Yea, let’s go.”

My moms shuffled into the living room and pretended to not be there until I reached the door. My mom, Stacey, looked over at us and said, “Drive safely! Bye Summer!”

I blushed and quickly walked out of the house with Jacques. He held my hand tightly, but not enough to hurt. He led me to his small blue car and opened the door for me. This isn’t our first date, or even or second, it’s like… our tenth. But it’s still awkwardly quiet whenever he picks me up. But not today.

I turned my head to the left and asked him, “Where are we going?”

He smiled, his white teeth subtly glistening from the sunlight. His smooth, semi-sensual voice danced around the car until he slid into my ears. “My favorite place.”

I smiled. I trust him. I slid my left hand in between us; he got the hint, he took my hand. He squeezed it and smiled while still focusing on the road. I smiled at our hands before turning my head to the right to watch the scenery pass. Our drive started in the suburbs, took us through the city, and brought us out to a more rural area. I was skeptical, but I kept it silent. He parked in front of a vineyard; he let himself out of the car, rushed to my side, and then opened my door. We walked through the vineyard hand in hand. The sun wasn’t setting yet, but it was getting ready; it took us almost an hour to get out here. The vines looked heavy, but they slowly transitioned into grass. Jacques stopped walking, causing me to pause as well.

“Do you want to take of your heels? The grass will feel nice.”

“I’m wearing tights.”

He nodded; he understood.

I kissed his cheek.

He smiled; a light blush brightened his otherwise pale cheeks.

Our arms and fingers both intertwined as we continued walking. The grass slowly became longer, greener. It tickled my ankles, but the cool blades of grass felt amazing against warm tights, and then my skin. But it too ended and almost seamlessly transitioned into a thin strip of dirt. I was too preoccupied with the dirt to realize where Jacques brought me.

Jacques let go of my hand so he could brush my hair off of my shoulder. He kissed my bare shoulder and then cupped my chin with his left hand. Jacques practically purred, “How are you supposed to enjoy your life’s path if you only stare at the steps?”

I giggled and blushed. I looked into his eyes and whispered, “You’re wonderful.”

He slowly slid his hand up my face, as if to gently caress my cheek, and then gently twined some of my hair around his warm fingers. Jacques whispered, “You’re beautiful.”

I blushed more.

He looked at the hair around his fingers. “You glow like an angel.”

I looked at him adoringly. I couldn’t say anything back. It was too nice. Too wonderful. I felt too good.

Jacques suddenly let go of my hair and picked me up. I shouted out and laughed with surprise and amusement as he walked us another twenty feet to a meadow. My left arm was wrapped around him for stability, but my right was free, so I picked a few flowers; some purple, some red, some yellow, some orange, all beautiful. He set me back on my feet, but he held me in his arm at an angle. He slid his free hand back to my face; he gently cupped my chin and led me to his lips. He kissed me softly, gently, sweetly; he let go, but he touched the tip of my nose with the tip of his.

His beret was slightly off, exposing his shinny black hair. The sun’s rays of light danced divinely around his lashes, highlighting his fragile, yet masculine, facial structure, and adding an angelic glow to his skin. His long, straight nose and his thin pink lips were teasingly close to mine. I would have kissed him, but I heard rustling near us. I pressed a hand against his chest to give us a little distance as I moved my head left and right. Jacques cupped my chin again, forcing me to stare him in the eyes.

He whispered seriously, “Summer.”

I smirked from amusement, “Jacques.”

The corners of his lips twitched upward into a small smile. Then he said, “Samuel.”

My whole world imploded; the very core of my existence exploded and pulled in the outer shell of who I am. Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve created, all the things I’ve accepted and worked in to my lifestyle broke apart and flew into different directions. I went to pull away, to shove him away, but he smiled and continued talking.

“It doesn’t bother me.”

I stayed still.

He moved his hand from my chin, up my cheek, and back into my hair, my extensions. “In my country I learned that people are people. And that all people are deserving of love, and that love isn’t limited to a set frame.”

I smiled, my eyes and soul softening.

He wrapped his other arm around my waist to bring me closer to him.

I gulped and whispered, “Does this relationship make you gay?”

His smile widened. He pressed his forehead against mine. “If you don’t consider yourself a man, why would I?”

I rested my right arm on his shoulder, my hand between his shoulder blades, my nails gently pressing circles into the base of his neck. I slid my left hand up to chin and then to the back of his neck. I kissed him.

He kissed me.

We separated.

The cross-country team ran by us about twenty or thirty feet away. I bit my bottom lip and looked at him.

“I don’t care who sees us. I’m not ashamed.”

I smiled.

He gently held me at my hips. “I love you.”

I kissed him again, “I love you too.”

We sat down next to each other; Jacques used his blazer as a protective barrier between the dirt and us. He used one hand to balance his seated position and the other to wrap around my middle. I rested my head against his shoulder and watched the sunset. Threads of gold embroidered the pink, yarn-like-threads of clouds that weaved in and out of the sheer blue sky. Jacque saw me staring up at the sky and asked, “What are you looking at?”

I sighed, “The sky is like a thin blanket.”

He kept looking at me, only now with an inquisitive eyebrow.

“It separates us from Heaven in the most teasing of ways. Look now, it looks almost transparent it’s such a light blue.”

He moved the hair off of my shoulder. “It doesn’t separate us from Heaven by being so-called-thin or sheer.”

I looked at him while he looked up at the sky.

“It lets us see just enough of Heaven to be able to continue enjoying physical mortality.”

I smiled, “But?”

He laughed and then said, “But,” he kissed my forehead and then whispered, “the sheerness isn’t to tease. The divine belong in Heaven. Our souls, our access to divinity, are trapped inside of our bodies.” He used his hand that was balancing to hold my hand. “The sky is light,” he smirked, “almost transparent, because we’re supposed to appreciate our humanity, that’s why we don’t see it all. But we see enough to understand that the world is a good place.”

I shrugged.

He kissed the tip of my nose. “People are people, Summer; most people are good. That’s why we have each other.”

I smiled, his sexy little accent sending warm shivers up and down my spine.

He wound some of my hair around his fingers again and then said, “Light shines so that we can see love. Even when the day is dark,” He gently tugged my hair so that I could see the sun twist through the strands, “people shine; the love comes through to balance out the cold of the world.”

I kissed him. The cross-country club kept running their laps on their twisted, complicated trail, but I didn’t care. Neither did Jacque. In fact, he only stopped kissing me to whisper, “Late June offers more than just a break from school and a chance to sunbathe.”

I half groaned, half happily sighed.

He smiled again. His eyes shined. “It offers an opportunity to love Summer.”

I cupped his chin. “And what have you said to Mr. Opportunity?”

He rubbed the tip of his nose back and forth against mine. “That I already do.”