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You Can Never Go Home Again
You Can Never Go Home Again
You Can Never Go Home Again
Ebook47 pages39 minutes

You Can Never Go Home Again

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What if you came home for Thanksgiving and your family home had disappeared?

Picture this: You started your first year at university a couple months ago and you haven’t been home since. You miss your parents, but you’ve learned a lot about yourself living away. Your family was accepting when you came out queer, but everything’s different now that you’re questioning your gender identity too. Even if you can work up the nerve to tell your parents, will they ever understand?

That’s the least of your concerns when you get home to find your house isn’t there. It’s just… gone! The neighbours have no idea who you are. What happened to your family? How can you find them? And does anyone remember the way things used to be?

A Paranormal LGBTQ Young Adult Novelette

LanguageEnglish
PublisherRainbow Crush
Release dateOct 7, 2016
ISBN9781370605231
You Can Never Go Home Again
Author

Foxglove Lee

Foxglove’s fiction has been called SPECTACULAR by Rainbow Reviews and UNFORGETTABLE by USA Today!Foxglove Lee is a former aspiring Broadway Baby who now writes fiction for children, teens and young adults. She tries not to be too theatrical, but her characters often take over. Her debut novel, Tiffany and Tiger’s Eye, is set in the 80s and features an evil doll!

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    Book preview

    You Can Never Go Home Again - Foxglove Lee

    You Can Never Go Home Again

    Paranormal LGBTQ Young Adult Fiction

    ––––––––

    by

    Foxglove Lee

    ––––––––

    There are a million annoying things about starting university when you’re seventeen. That’s the plight of the student born in December: you’re always just that little bit younger than most of your friends. I guess it isn’t a huge deal when you’re eight and your friends are nine, but when they’re eighteen and the law sees them as adults but you’re still seventeen and the law sees you as a child, sometimes you just want to scream.

    I still need my mom for the simplest things, like opening new bank account. Hello! I’m a university student going through to be a computer programmer.  I think I can choose a freakin bank account on my own!

    And changing my name.  You’d think if I’m old enough to live independently—well, independently in a dorm room—I’m old enough to choose what name I want to be called. But no.  I need parental permission for that too.

    Or I could just wait until my birthday.  It’s not that far off.

    Because, see, the thing is... when I tell my parents I want to change my name they’re going to wonder why.  They’ll probably think I’m trans.  They know about all that stuff.  They’re not as clueless as some people’s parents.  Like when I started dating a girl in high school, they were fine with that.  They didn’t sit me down and have a talk with me.  They just included Ashley in our family the same way they’d later include my sister’s boyfriend.

    Ashley was the first person who ever asked me if I might be trans, like a trans guy or something.  She didn’t say it mean or judgemental.  We were just together one time, holding each other, and she whispered it: Did you ever wonder if maybe you’re trans?

    It ruined the mood, but that was my fault.  I got so angry I even kind of pushed her. I didn’t mean to hurt her or anything, but my body’s bigger than hers.  I’m bigger and she fell and... that was it, I guess. 

    Ashley left in tears.  She avoided me at school.  Neither of us said the words We’re breaking up, but after a few weeks had gone by it was pretty clear.

    I feel so bad about it now, obviously.  I think a part of me felt bad about it even while it was happening, but a bigger part of me was just... I don’t know.  So angry

    As it turned out, she was really on to something.  Maybe that’s what got me worked up: the fact that she was seeing something I didn’t want anyone to see.  Maybe everyone already could.  Maybe everyone already can. 

    Maybe I don’t have to be so nervous about coming out to my parents.  Maybe they already know.

    A lot of times, people think I’m a guy.  It’s because of how I dress: baggy jeans, crusty hoodie, short hair.  I’ve got this paperboy hat like something you’d see on an Oliver extra, but it was my grandfather’s and I modelled myself on him for a long time.  When I first started thinking about names, it was his that came to mind.  He was called Charles.  That’s

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