Growing up in an extremely religious family had always made you put on the act of a perfect girl, delicate and fragile, like they said ladies should be.

But Tex saw through the act. He knew what you really were, a man. You’d just been brainwashed into thinking otherwise, and he was going to make you stop hiding yourself.

You were in his garage. He’d made you do push ups and lift weights, made you keep going even when your muscles ached. “That just means its working.” He’d told you.

You punch the punching bag. “That was weak. Harder.” He ordered you, like some drill sergeant. “Tougen up. Be a man.”