Chapter 15
“Sidney!" Makayla’s voice shakes me out of my head the next morning. I’ve been staring into my locker, lost in swirling thoughts for who knows how long, and when I look over I’m surrounded by my friends: Jayden on one side, Anna on the other, and—
“Check it out,” Makayla says as I turn around. She fluffs her hair with a grin as my mouth drops open. “Got it done after school yesterday.”
“Oh my god! It looks so good!”
When I saw them yesterday at school, their hair was long, past their collarbone, but today, their curls have been sculpted into a short mullet, halo-like around the crown of their head, longer strands tapering below their ears, with fresh blond highlights woven into their natural dark brunette, almost black color.
“Makayla, you look . . .” I search for words, not sure what will feel right to them.
“Like a nonbinary baddie?” They strike a pose, one hand under their chin, eyes tilted to the ceiling like a glamorous diva.
“Exactly.” I smile back. “Do you love it?”
“I’ve been wanting to do this for so long, you don’t even know,” she says. “I can’t wait to show it off at Queer Alliance. Everyone’s going to freak.”
“Now we’re all trans!” Anna said. “The agenda is working!”
My friends chatter on, but Makayla’s words echo in my head. Queer Alliance is today. I’m going to see Forrest, which makes me happy, but also, I’m going to see Forrest, and that’s terrifying.
He stayed yesterday for a few hours, typing away on his laptop while I stared at my own, willing the words to come for my essay.
But all I could think about was him, sitting across from me; him, in my house; him, sitting in my bathroom, face inches away from mine, and the way he bit his bottom lip.
His lips, and wanting to feel them on mine.
And then I’d glance at him over the top of my screen, and he’d look up and stick his tongue out, or crack a joke, or just smile, and I could feel myself blush.
Has he guessed? After he went home, did he spend the whole night thinking about me the way I was thinking about him until I finally fell asleep? Will he see it on my face the moment I walk in?
Does he have a crush on me too?
When the lunch bell rings, my heart jumps like it’s been electric-shocked. I haven’t seen Forrest all day. Maybe he’s absent? I rush to my locker, grab my lunch, and head for Mr. Harrison’s classroom, scanning the hallways around me. No sign of him.
As I near the door, my steps slow. I can hear voices inside, the squeak of chairs pushed across the floor, and Forrest’s laugh cuts through the noise, ringing out to where I’m standing now. Just a few more steps, and I’ll be inside. Just a few more steps, and I’ll see him.
I take one step forward, then another, until I’m standing in the doorway.
Then I see him, at last. Forrest is setting up for the meeting with a couple other people. No one has noticed me yet, and a wild thought spikes in my brain: RUN AWAY.
I don’t want to. Queer Alliance is my space, my home.
RUN AWAY
I force myself to lift my foot and set it down in front of me, RUN AWAY, and again, RUN AWAY, until I’m inside the classroom.
The second he glimpses me, Forrest’s whole face lights up and it’s like I see every moment of it in slow motion: his mouth unfurling into a broad smile, all his teeth showing, his cheeks scrunching up, eyes filling with sparkle, the corners of his eyes crinkling back to his temples. Oh my god, I noticed his eye crinkles.
“Hey,” I say, and it sounds like I’m underwater. My heart is thumping like it’s going to burst out of my chest. I’m going to have a heart attack and die. No, you’re not. I AM I AM. My chest hurts it’s happening now I’m going to collapse and—
No, I tell myself. I cross to a desk and plop my lunch down on it, my bag in the seat, and pull it into the circle. Forrest is beside me, dragging another chair.
“You weren’t in first period,” I say, as casually as possible.
“Dentist appointment,” he says, and bares his teeth.
“Very nice. Very white.” I look away. I probably shouldn’t stare at his mouth.
“I was thinking that today, we could keep chatting about Trans Awareness Week, figure out what we want to do, maybe break out into groups depending on who wants to run what thing?” he says. His eyes are still sparkling. They’re so pretty.
Oh my god, no. Stop.
“Yes. Yeah. That sounds great!” I force a smile, hoping it masks how absolutely weird I must look right now. My thoughts are so loud, I’m surprised everyone can’t hear them. Maybe they CAN—
No.
“Cool,” he says, and turns away suddenly, and it feels like dropping off a cliff, the absence of his attention. Alexander is there, gesturing about something.
“It’s tomorrow, are you coming?” he asks Forrest.
“Fuck yeah!” Forrest says.
Alexander’s eyes land on me. “You should come too, Sid! Jayden’s going to be there, and he said he was going to invite you all.”
“To what?” I say, forcing the babble of words and images in my head into the background.
“My breaking competition,” Alexander says. “It’s hosted by the studio I dance with and there’s like thirteen crews coming from around the area, local ones, Portland, even Los Angeles. Mine is the best though.” He pretends to flip invisible long hair.
“That’s so cool,” I say.
“What’s up?” Jayden joins us, followed by Makayla and Anna. Alexander tells them about his competition, and they all clap and say yes of course, and then everyone exclaims over Makayla’s hair, and I stand there like a gargoyle, frozen in stone, seeing it all unfold:
Tomorrow.
The competition.
A whole day with Forrest, laughing at his jokes, breathing in the pine forest smell of him, feeling the warmth of his body radiating next to mine, the way I can feel him now, even though we’re not touching, the way I could feel him last night on the other side of the table.
He jumped up when Shar got home and shook her hand as if he was forty years old instead of sixteen, and then made small talk with her for ten minutes before running out to his mom’s car, and then he rolled down the window and flashed me a peace sign that turned into an enthusiastic wave until the car rounded the corner out of sight.
I’d gone back inside, straight to my room, and sat there for thirty minutes straight, staring at the wall, replaying the entire afternoon, how good it had felt, how easy, how right.
Even though the knowledge of my crush was like a swarm of bees swirling under my skin.
The second bell rings and we all take our seats, Forrest right next to me.
“So, we were working on locking down stuff for Trans Awareness Week last meeting,” he says, clapping his hands together. “How’s that looking?”
“I heard back from that nonprofit I mentioned,” Nyx says, raising a hand. “They’re down to send someone to speak next week, and they’re going to do it for free. I guess one of their employees was a student here back in the day?”
“Mx. Prager said we could host the speaker in the library as a pull-out event,” Riley adds.
“So anyone who wants to attend needs to get signed out for fifth period. Trans Awareness Week doesn’t start ’til Thursday, but the library is booked by other classes the last half of the week, so we’ll need to do it Tuesday. ”
“More Trans Awareness Week?” Mercury interjects, smiling. “Sign me up. Everyone should be aware of me.” She twirls one long blue strand of hair around her finger.
“More like be-ware,” Riley says, clicking their nails at Mercury.
“That too,” she says, letting out a villainous laugh.
“Hell yeah,” Forrest says, and turns to me. “Sidney, are you still good to co-moderate the panel with me? I thought we could take turns asking questions.”
I make a noise of assent, nodding. Forrest’s leg is inches away from mine, and all I want is to put my hand on his thigh.
I have a crush on Forrest. In all these weeks of meeting with him, it turned out he wasn’t annoying, or awful, or out to ruin the club.
He’s the opposite: funny, and caring, and thoughtful.
When I’m around him, my anxiety movies turn off, and I feel like I’m actually living in the present instead of fighting off a million possible catastrophic futures.
I want to tell him how I feel, but at the same time, I’m scared. What if it changes everything, and for the worse?
I can’t. Not just yet.
I can hide my feelings at Queer Alliance, but can I manage a whole day? I don’t know, but I want to go to Alexander’s competition. I want to be with my friends. I want to be with Forrest.
Oh my god.
I want to be with Forrest.
“I heard you’re going hiking again this weekend,” Mom says when she gets home that evening. I look up from my laptop, midway through page two of my essay. “Your dad told me,” she adds, setting her bag near the door and sitting on the couch with a groan.
“You need anything, love?” Shar asks, coming in from the back room where she’s been napping since she got home.
“A glass of wine and a shoulder massage?” Mom asks. “We presented the new strategy to the client today and they loved it.”
“Of course they did!” Shar says, popping a cork on one of the bottles in the rack on the kitchen counter.
A moment later, she brings a glass out and hands it to Mom, then settles in behind her on the couch.
Mom sighs, sipping the wine as Shar presses her fingers into the muscles at the base of her neck.
“What’s that about hiking?” Shar says, smiling at me. “You and your dad have been doing that a lot lately.”
“Only like three times, counting this one,” I say.
“He seems like he’s making a good effort,” Mom says, watching me.
“Yeah, he is,” I say, half surprised at my own words.
Part of me is still waiting for him to stumble, to show up drunk or go radio silent, but this time really does seem different.
He even said he wanted to make amends, and he’s never even taken the first of the twelve steps of AA seriously, let alone any beyond that.
And I’m looking forward to Sunday. Dad doesn’t see me every day, doesn’t have a big stressful job, doesn’t monitor my study habits; he won’t ask me questions I don’t feel like answering.
That thought is freeing. Maybe I could talk to him about Forrest, how I decided to just do what feels right, like he said to, and now we’re friends, and I’ve realized I have this crush.
“You’re studying with Jayden on Saturday, right?” Mom says.
I nod, pretending to be focused on my computer screen so I don’t have to look her in the eye while I lie.
I’m going to be with Jayden, but we won’t be studying; once again, Mom and Shar’s Al-Anon meeting will cover my ass when the twins pick me up for the breaking competition.
“The three of us are all going to hang out afterward,” I say.
“Jayden said his mom can give me a ride home.”
That’s at least partly true. I am getting a ride home from him, and the three of us are all hanging out. Just not in the way Mom and Shar assume we’re going to.
“Maybe you and I can have a little post-meeting date,” Shar says, looking down at Mom, who twists her head back so they can kiss.
“I would love that,” Mom says. “I’ve got some time this weekend before things kick up again on Monday.”
I stare at the half-written second page of my essay.
I have to work on it, but I have to go to Alexander’s competition too.
I’m scared Forrest will see right through me, see my crush, but I want to be near him.
And if I’m being honest, I kind of want him to see through me.
I have plenty of time to finish the assignment before next Friday.
Skipping one study session won’t kill my grades.
You skipped one already, a voice says. Mom’s going to find out, and she’s going to be so angry, she’ll hate you, she’ll send you away—
That’s not real, I tell the voice. It’s not happening.
That’s not real. It’s not happening.
That’s not real. It’s not happening.
Images form, bursting like fireworks in my mind: Mom locking me in my room, Mom so angry she leaves the house, Mom in the car, headed somewhere, and another car spins out of control, smashes her across three lanes into a building and her car goes up in flames, and the last thing that ever happened between us was a fight, and I’ll have to live with it the rest of my life—
I push away from the chair and head to the bathroom, locking the door behind me, sliding to the floor, pressing my face into my knees, and scream at myself in my head.
THAT’S NOT REAL. IT’S NOT HAPPENING.
THAT’S NOT REAL. IT’S NOT HAPPENING.
THAT’S NOT REAL. IT’S NOT HAPPENING.
Over and over, until I lose track of how many sets I’ve done and have to start again.
THAT’S NOT REAL. IT’S NOT HAPPENING.
THAT’S NOT REAL. IT’S NOT HAPPENING.
THAT’S NOT REAL. IT’S NOT HAPPENING.