Chapter 13
LACHLAN
January
So now what do I do? Where can I go?
Weirdo. You’re the only student who never wants the school day to end.
Across the room, a locker slams, and I flinch. Keep it together. They’re gonna lock up soon. You have to go. A sour taste forms in my mouth.
“Catch you later, Lach,” Vince says, slapping me on the back.
Sitting on my hands so he can’t see them tremble, I swallow and beam at my teammate. “Yeah, man. See you Monday!”
Can it be Monday now? I really, really don’t want to go home. Ivy and Uncle Norm have been at each other’s throats.
Vince’s black JanSport backpack disappears around the row of dented royal blue lockers, and with everyone gone, the room is stiflingly quiet.
The wooden bench is hard under my ass, and I tug at the thighs of my jeans.
I didn’t dry myself off that well after I showered, and my clothes are sticking to my body.
The hassle of showering fast and dressing hurriedly is better than an inconvenient boner.
Also, fast showers mean that no one can look at me too closely.
Though the marks shouldn’t be visible unless they really stare.
Lowering my head, I focus on my new, bright white athletic shoes. Grandma got them as a peace offering, I think.
Breathe in. Breathe out. What’s that scent? It’s familiar.
I realize what I’m smelling: Eau de Disinfectant, which poorly masks decades of teenage boy BO—and reminds me of times in the janitor’s closet with Isak, like today during fourth period. It’s oddly comforting. I wonder if they sell the stuff in 500 mL bottles.
Don’t be weird, weirdo.
Again I inhale deeply, my feet rooted to the industrial-tile floor, willing myself to leave.
Drip, drip, drip from a faucet. A strange whirring noise coming from the HVAC. Otherwise, the locker room sounds like a cave or something, silent and empty.
I glance around, an ache in the back of my throat.
Yeah. This isn’t working for me. Singing quietly to myself, I grab my backpack and book it outside, where I briefly close my eyes, letting my face get bathed by the late afternoon sunshine.
School’s out for the day, of course, but kids are still hanging around for after-school activities.
The drum corps starts beating out a rhythm over by the volleyball courts, and the soccer team is messing around on the field by the parking lot.
A group of emo kids is sitting in the quad, playacting or something. Probably practicing for drama class.
I try not to stare, but my eye catches on Isak, because how could it not?
He’s wearing an army jacket, black net shirt, and a long jean skirt that goes down to the ground.
I twist the unraveling embroidery floss friendship bracelet that I hide under my watch, then rub a palm over my heart, feeling the necklace under my shirt.
Isak has no idea how many people I’ve kept from teasing him about wearing “girl’s clothes.” By now, I think pretty much everyone knows they’d better keep their mouths shut, or they’ll face my ire.
Of course, clothes are clothes, and even if there were such a thing as girl’s clothes, that shouldn’t be a slur. But this town has some remnants of homophobia—I suppose most places probably do—and he’s got a style all his own. Closed-minded thinking doesn’t play well with creativity.
He’s with his friends: seniors Zanita and Malik, and a junior who now goes by Jody since their transition. They’re all laughing uproariously at whatever Isak is saying. His eyes shine, and he focuses his bright smile on me for a second.
My face flushes, and I give him an up nod. Like always.
He nods back.
My lips part, and I take a deep breath.
Whatever. Get a move on. I look around the quad as I pass through it, trying to find another familiar face to hang out with, since Isak’s off-limits. Is there a club meeting I can crash?
I want some reliable appointment to keep me from having to go home. Sure, I can go hang at someone’s house … but that doesn’t work every day.
I turn the corner past the administration building and find a few kids standing around and talking, including three girls I recognize from biology class last year.
I go up to them and smile. “Ladies.”
“Hey, Lachlan. How are you?” Asha says. At least, I’m mostly sure that’s her name. It’s either Asha, Sasha, or Tasha.
I give them all my biggest grin. “I’m doing better now that I’m with you all.”
“Oh my god, you’re such a flirt.” Asha/Sasha/Tasha bats her hand in the air.
“Is it flirting if it’s true?” I ask. The girls giggle. “What are you doing this afternoon?”
They look at each other. “Just studying,” Carli says.
“Where?”
“At the library,” Maria says.
I perk up. “Oh? Can I join you?”
Carli scrunches her brows. “You’re not in our class.”
Don’t make me be alone. “I have my own homework.”
Asha/Sasha/Tasha tilts her head, a welcoming smile on her face. “Then come along.”
Yes. I don’t know them well, and I don’t care. I can’t be by myself. “I need all the lovely women around me,” I say as we walk to the school library.
Carli swats my bicep. “Seriously, you are really a flirt.”
“Just because I say you’re beautiful,” I start. They all give me the same look. The library is almost vacant when we step inside. “I thought there would be more people in here.”
Maria nods. “Me, too.”
Mrs. Long, the librarian, approaches us. “Hi, guys, you’re welcome today, but next week, we are going to be reducing after-school hours to only two days a week.” She looks regretful. “Budget cuts are affecting us all.”
At least I’ll have weight training to keep me from having to go home. I spend most of the time in the library working on my Linguikk streak. I’m learning a few languages. For fun.
But I don’t want to talk in any language about what happens at my house.