“My cousin said names aren’t bad,” Tamantha went on. “Just sometimes they get handed to the wrong person first. Deadname Dan takes them where they belong.” The promise of her words settled over the room in a hush. Abigail turned toward the mirror on the closet door. In its long glass she could see both of them, small and solemn, caught between childhood and whatever came next. “Do you know how to call him?” she asked. Tamantha nodded. “Show me.” They stood before the mirror together, Abigail in front and Tamantha just behind her, their reflections layered one over the other in the pale afternoon light. “I’m not saying his whole name,” Tamantha whispered. “My cousin said that’s asking for too much attention. I’ll say ‘Mmmm’ instead. But you have to say his real name each time or it won’t work.” Abigail nodded. Her stomach fluttered in a way she did not care for. Softly, both girls looking straight into the mirror, Tamantha began: “Mmmm Dan, Mmmm Dan come as quick as you can, I’ve got a name for you to claim in your hand.”
A snippet from my newest short story, Deadname Dan a gentle, moonlit story about identity, belonging, and becoming yourself 📚💙🏳️⚧️🏳️🌈
open.substack.com/pub/gloryfin...
#MiddleGrade #QueerBooks #TransJoy
