Set Her Free

Harry Styles has known something is wrong with him for most of his life. He's wicked smart and really nice, but people don't hang out with him. He gets called 'gay' on a daily basis, although he doesn't know what that means until third grade. He gets called 'weak' when he plays sports, because he's not good at them. He spends too much time looking at the cheerleaders. But it's not because he wants them. He wants to be one of them.


16. Failure

She could do it.

She could do it.

She would do it.

Harriet was going to go out as herself in public that day.

It was Saturday, a nice day outside. Sunny, but not so bad that she would get burned.

She had chosen a nice outfit that day. It was a cute little white T-shirt with the words 'Have A Nice Fucking Day!' emblazoned in sparkly pink across it, along with a bra that was filled out perfectly. On her torso she looked good, she thought. All she had to do was push her shoulders back, which pushed out her chest and made her shoulders look less broad, in her opinion. Her arms were shaved, her underarms were shaved, she had even shaved her tummy for the first time.

Her lower half was covered by a slightly baggy pink skirt that matched the words pretty well, besides the sparkles. Her legs were shaved, so she thought she was pretty good there. Her feet were hidden in some white shoes, with little white socks that covered her ankles. Her legs were shaved, too.

Her hair was straightened again, and she had plucked her eyebrows. She'd used bronzer, like Luna said, and her Adam's apple was mostly gone, as far as she could see.

The only obstacles left were her voice and her face.

It turned out that she had not gotten her voice to hide as well as she had thought, so it was a bit more difficult. She'd practice in the car.

Her face she spent thirty minutes on. She was trying to get her nose to look a bit less manly, her jawline less defined. Her cheekbones needed to be a little higher as well. Her lips were born feminine, so she was grateful she didn't have to use anything but ChapStick for them.

Finally, she was ready.

It was her time now.

She went up the stairs with confidence, swinging her hips unconsciously and holding her shoulders back. She swung her hair over her shoulder-it was that long straight- and went to open up the door.

Here she goes.

Out for the first time.

She opened the door a crack, peeking just in case, and-

"Harry!" Her mother called.

She slammed the door and hurried to lock it, running back down and starting to hide everything. She shoved her skirt, bra, panties, shoes and shirt all back in the treasure chest and locked herself in the bathroom to remove every minuscule bit of her makeup. She hopped into the shower, too, to make her hair curly again and to make sure it was all gone.

She'd been so close.

So close.

But so far.

After she got out of the shower, she had stared at herself in the mirror for an hour.

She would never pass. Luna had obviously been lying to her. Her arms were too muscly. Her face was too man-ish. Her hands were too fucking big. She was too tall. Her hips were too narrow. Her feet were too big. Her legs were way too hairy.

And her fucking penis.

She wanted it off.

She wanted to cut it off just like Luna had tried to do.

Her fucking body was betraying her. This was not her, not this...this...this ugly creature! This dumb, evil failure! She despised it! She hated it!

She hated herself!

Harriet threw on some sweats and an old T-shirt, turning out all of the lights so she couldn't see herself. She ignored anyone trying to talk to her, trying to come in, telling her that dinner was ready, etc. She ignored everybody and everything until she was finally left alone.

She spent the rest of the night crying.

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