Chapter 2

It is now January fourth. It is the first day of school since winter break that I am about to face. Four days after the kiss. This is the one time I think I will ever be thankful for going to an all girls school. I won't have to face Sebastian after what he did to me.I almost considered staying home this morning. There's nothing waiting for me at school. Nobody really bullies me, but nobody really cares for me. I'm just there. I eventually worked up enough courage to get out of bed. I dismissed my alarm, and then went back to sleep. My second alarm I slept through, and the third alarm was my mom's hands roughly gripping my shoulders, trying to drag me out of bed. I waited for her to leave, then I threw on my uniform, which was just a pullover sweater and an ugly skirt, and threw my hair into a ponytail. Today was already ruined by my mother, but what else is new? I love her. I truly do. You have to love your mother. But if she was some random lady on the street, telling me what a disappointment I am like she does almost every day, I wouldn't hesitate to strike back.I probably look like a corpse, but all I was focused on was leaving the house, so maybe I could forget what happened on New Year's Eve, and focus on my studies, as I often do, since it's the only thing that really distracts me from my depression for a brief forty-minute time period per class.Part of me wished Sebastian had just told me I wasn't his type and was ugly. Hideous. It would have been better than finding out he was paid to kiss me. I'm not one to turn down free money by doing anything within reason. Like being dared to do a prank call, or lick a bizarre surface. This was crossing the line for me. My definition of opening up is having a basic conversation with someone, given my lack of friends, experience, and overall social awkwardness. We even talked about our beliefs. He called me pretty. Sure, I would have preferred "handsome," but he had no way of knowing I wanted such a thing. And, maybe it's for the best that I figured out now that he isn't into me. It just hurt because he said we were friends. If he had told me in advance, or we were really close friends, I wouldn't have had any problem. I've kissed Noa on multiple occasions. But the worst part of it all is that I'd still let him do it again.His lips were so soft, just like I had imagined. He tasted like the strawberry mints we all had to suck on so my parents wouldn't smell our breath. I didn't even mind the underlying taste of alcohol. I looked up into his blue-gray eyes afterward and looked shocked, but on the inside was screaming, and yelping with joy. The next minute, I was upstairs in the bathroom, soaking my dress with tears. He thought he could just apologize and then leave, like this kind of thing didn't matter. That was my first kiss, too. He stole my first kiss.Now, I'm sitting on the bus, waiting for us to stop at Noa's house. I doze off as soon as I sit down on the seat, but after a couple minutes, I wake up in a panic, remembering everything all over again. I anxiously wait for us to pick up my friend. She didn't even remember any of it, I'm guessing. She was the most wasted out of all of them. She was actually the one who threw up on everyone else. Greg left with one of my shirts that night. I told him I didn't want it back, but he insisted he wash it and bring it back. As I begin to get bored and exhausted from replaying my own thoughts in my mind over and over, I start suspecting that Noa wasn't riding the bus today.I open my eyes and realize that we had been stopped, waiting for the same girl that is always late. Her name is Carmen... something. All I know about her is that she has a loud laugh, and a boyfriend from Iowa, named Dean, who is probably cheating on her.Noa finally gets on the bus and sits next to me, after waiting for what seems like forever. "Noa!""Tarah!" She gives me a big hug. She isn't huge on hugs, so I am surprised when she does."Do you remember what happened on New Year's Eve?" I ask frantically. I was going to text her that next day, but then I remembered that she had her phone taken away."No? What? I remember us getting wasted a bit.""A bit? Okay, Miss 'Throws up on everyone at the New Year's Eve Party.'" I tease."No, um, Sebastian kissed me.""What?!" She shakes my shoulders roughly."Yeah. During the countdown.""Then, how come you sound so sad?""Greg paid him forty bucks. He kissed me and left," I murmur. I was ashamed."Are you kidding me?! That little-""I just want to forget about it. It's fine.""It's not fine!" She exclaims. By now, everyone is staring at us.She was right. It wasn't fine. I mean, he did apologize, but that really meant nothing to me. Was he secretly repulsed by me? I had never been kissed before that night, but I think I would know whether or not it meant something. It was just so strange. I kept hoping that it would be one of those situations that I would "look back and laugh at." But I'm not sure how this can look any differently.After I get Noa to calm down, we sit in silence for most of the ride. I try not to let it show, but I was thinking about Sebastian the entire time. I bounce my leg up and down, and Noa hums a song quietly. Once we walk into the school building, I snap back to reality when I find myself walking into the wrong classroom. I have history class first period every day.I get settled in my seat, next to a girl named Leah. She hated me because I beat her in the spelling bee in the fourth grade, then got the lead instead of her in our Christmas play in sixth grade, and finally, last year. I didn't beat her at anything. I just purposely tripped her in the hall and accidentally broke her ankle. These girls here played dirty, so regardless of whether or not our teachers saw any of this, we wouldn't get in trouble. They're all women too, so they turn their heads and look the other way so our petty drama doesn't concern them. But I don't usually play petty. She was my one exception that year."Atarah, you look tired. Rough New Year?" Asks Leah, her mouth stuffed with minty bubble gum."I suppose. It's whatever. Hey, do you -""Nope, gotta go to the bathroom." She gets up from her seat right as the bell rings, signaling us all to take our seats. Our history teacher, Miss Leroy, yells at Leah as soon as she gets up."Miss Jameson, you've had plenty of time to go reapply your lip gloss. I expect you to sit back down in your chair before I count you as tardy."The class briefly erupts into laughter, coming to a halt as our teacher grabs the huge stack of assignments for us to complete today.Jameson. Jameson. Gregory Jameson? "Hey, Leah." I whisper."What do you want?!" She exclaims back in a low voice."Is your brother Gregory Jameson?""Uh, yeah." She replies, as if I was supposed to know everyone in her family. She fiddles with one of her braided pigtails, twirling it around, keeping her lips in a pout as she watches the teacher.Wait. So that means she was taunting me. She must know about the forty dollars. "Oh. That makes sense." I roll my eyes as I pull my focus back to my favorite subject in school."What's that supposed to mean? Are you calling me fat?" She asks. Why would she think that?"What? No. No, not at all. In fact, I think I'd like to introduce you to something called a cheeseburger. Have you ever heard of one?"She squeals in disapproval. I know now that I've already succeeded in ruining her day. I don't love to be that person, but it does get me in a decent mood and doesn't always hurt to knock her down a few pegs. Sure, I was just as skinny as her, but I've been asked much worse in my school career, and I know she has as well. It's just how we communicate here, as sad as that sounds.I continue to focus on history for the rest of the class, unlike everyone else, discreetly playing and texting on their phones. We were learning about the Cold War. It's not my favorite thing to take notes on, as I've learned plenty about the topic on my own, and by briefly discussing it in previous classes. My favorite thing about history is that there seems to always be more to learn. And someday, when you find and read every last detail and every last fact that you can possibly get your hands on, there is so much more history being created. History is everything to me. One of my favorite things to study involving the subject is anthropology. Everyone is so different depending on where they live, and I love studying diversity in different cultures. I think it's amazing how different everyone is. It's like one massive, colorful canvas. Every person is their own individual shade of a color, without even one repeating.My next class is always my language class. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, I have Spanish. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I have a Dutch class. Dutch is a really fun language to me. I actually wanted to learn it because Noa grew up speaking it after learning it along with English when she was only a couple of years old. She learned from her grandparents. She's also in that class with me because she figures it will just be easy for her to pass, so she uses her background to her advantage. We like to speak it when we want to discuss private matters.I needed to tell Noa what happened. Leah knows about the bet, and I'm sure she's going to tell everyone by the end of the day. I sat down in my seat and waited for her since we also had Spanish together. As soon as she walks in, I pull her by the hand to get her in her seat faster, angrily explaining how I found out who Leah's brother is.""Oh, verdomme. Dat is balen! She sounded terribly angry, especially when she would swear in a foreign language. But she always says she just finds it fun to learn swear words in other languages.She goes on to tell me not to worry about it and that rumors never last too long. And they will have no way of knowing for certain it is true. Leah is known for lying, but I guess everyone likes to believe her because she's rich and popular. The stereotypical popular girl.Algebra is my least favorite class because I just can't put the two together: numbers and letters. I would much rather stay in history class all day. Our school doesn't even have an A.P. history class, but if there was one, I would thrive in that sort of environment. I try to take my grades seriously, but algebra is just that one class that I allow myself to slack on. So, I occasionally skip class. Our math class consists of around one hundred students, so it wasn't very likely I would get in trouble, what with our school already being short staffed at the moment, and not to mention the legal issues involving sanitary lunch conditions are still in the process of being taken care of, distracting our teachers. And, as I've said, I'm just... there. Sometimes, I'm just not there. And I suppose I'm okay with that.I would usually sneak my way outside and walk to this cafe I would always come to with my dad when I was younger. We stopped doing that when I started feeling out of place. We stopped bonding. It's as if they knew something had changed, but I didn't know for sure what it was, and we were afraid to find out. Honestly, I was in denial myself for many years. I didn't actually know what being transgender was until I was ten. And then I knew immediately. I remember reading about it on one of the websites my mom had blocked. I was using Stefan's new computer. I read an article about a trans male and said to myself, and then said it out loud: "That's me."I aimlessly walk outside until I remember packing a couple of beers in my bag. They were in my minifridge and didn't want to risk anyone in the house finding them. Nobody would bother trying to steal my things or look in my bag, so they were safe. I crouch down behind the dumpster behind the school building and let my mind wander.***"Your name. Atarah. Isn't it Hebrew?" Sebastian asks."Yeah, it is," I reply, a smile playing on my lips."Are you from a religious family?""Unfortunately. Mother is heavily religious. Father's a pushover. They're very...traditional, in the worst way.""Damn, I'm sorry. My parents are more like... free-spirited hippies. We don't play by the rules unless they specifically apply to us. My dad encourages me to be different. Both of my sisters are atheists, and they are younger than I am," he explains."Wow. That sounds amazing." I marvel at how lucky he is. Not to mention beautiful. He's a beautiful, stunning man. "How old are your sisters?""Ana is five, and Chloe is six. Ana is actually in Chloe's grade, though. they're both incredibly smart. You know, it's actually crazy that they get bullied for being so smart. Does that happen to you? I know you're pretty good in school. I would kill to even have straight B's. My parents always ask if I want to homeschool and concentrate better.""Oh, I suppose. I never understood that either. But, the homeschool thing? You always say no? Do you have a lot of friends at school, or something?""Just a couple. But I really excel at the things I am passionate about, and that's what matters to me. My school has an incredible arts program, and after-school clubs. And I believe that as long as you're happy with yourself, you won't feel the need to do things for others, even when it seems they all turn against you.""Such simple words to live by. Is it that easy?" I ask, obviously knowing the answer, because I tried living by these rules. Maybe if I try harder."For some. Sometimes, all it takes is one person to motivate you. Then they change your life. You'll forget all about the rules.'" He responds, grabbing a pan from the cupboard. His strong arms were more evident to me as I watched him cook. Noa and Jackson watch as I drool over him. It was even evident in the way I talked to him.***He was right. All it takes in one person. Of course, the rules I'm breaking aren't the ones I had pictured. Never in a million years would I think I would be skipping class and drinking beer behind the school dumpster to get over a boy. I was drinking because I wanted to forget him. Or at least not care, even for a little bit.Am I being dramatic? Oh, yes. Most definitely. Sebastian is the first man I've ever even had a crush on, and I know there will be many others that come my way. Still, I keep wanting to try harder and fight back until we get on the same page. But, I knew that if I started dating him- that is, if I ever even had a chance -I wouldn't be truly happy, because that would mean I would be posing as someone I'm not. It almost seems worth it when I'm standing next to him, but his words make a whole lot of sense. Once I start doing things for myself and living the life I want to, it won't matter if I'm not understood. I won't feel disconnected from my own body anymore.I climb up to the dumpster and stuff the two beer cans at the bottom of it, and make sure they are well hidden. I hop back down, nearly tripping and falling onto the ground. I was very short compared to everyone else at my school. I was only 5'3. I crouch down as I walk past the windows, so nobody sees me. I am able to sneak in from the side entrance located in the hall barely anyone walks through. I hurry up to my locker just in time to stuff a couple of mints in my mouth, grab my bag, and head to fourth period.Of course, given my luck, we had a pop quiz during science on our first day back. I wasn't that upset by it because it was fairly easy. It was five multiple choice questions, and then I earned five points worth of extra credit for doing the bonus short answer question. Our science teacher was the one woman there who wasn't a hard ass. She let us do whatever we wanted on our phones. I wanted to text Noa, since she's usually on her phone during class when she isn't supposed to, but I remembered as I was about to send her a message that she still didn't have her phone. I have this weird feeling whenever I'm on my phone in public that someone will appear behind me and watch what I was doing, and now I associate being on my phone while playing games with embarrassment and paranoia, so I sit in silence and draw on a piece of notebook paper as everyone else plays games and texts secrets to each other.I attempted to draw a person, which was a huge mistake, because I already can't draw a thing to save my life. I am able to draw basic features of a face and hair without too much detail. It ends up looking like a poorly drawn cartoon. Still, I was wondering why the lips, the shape of the eyes, and the dark shading I added to the hair that fell down to the man's back looked so familiar. Then, I hear footsteps behind me."Oh, Atarah. Very good! Is this a character you made up on your own?" My science teacher, Miss Will asks.Oh, no. A swarm of girls crowded around me and our teacher. They wanted to see what she was so impressed by."Oh, I don't know. It's just a silly drawing I thought of as I went." I explain quietly, wanting them all to just leave me be."No, wait." Leah steps in. "I know who that is!" Oh, God.No, no, please don't say it. Because I see it now. "It's Sebastian Galanis! It looks just like him!" She exclaims. The rest of the girls gather around, and both of them nod and murmur in agreement, knowing who he is because they all have massive crushes on him. I don't blame them, but God, this is embarrassing! Now, there are surely going to be all sorts of rumors spread about me. All because I can't keep my stupid mind off of him.Everyone knew who he was because he's the fastest runner on his school's track team. Our school's team and their all girls team compete sometimes. I'm not a runner. But I could watch Sebastian run all day. His legs were so muscular, and I always focused on him when I would go with Noa's family to watch. Jackson is also on the track team at their school. They all cheer for him, even though he's one of the slowest. They are there to support him, but I'm just there to admire Sebastian. Noa started catching on after a while. I still continued to go. I hate to sound obsessive, but there's something so special about him. It's not even about how sexy he is. But it doesn't hurt one bit.Even Miss Will agrees that it looks just like him. The nose and the eye shape were both spot on. His hair was nearly as long as mine, and black, and facial hair. All perfectly replicated onto my paper from memory."Oh, uh, w-who?" Stupid mistake."You know who he is, silly!" Replies, Leah."No, I don't, Leah." I shoot her a threatening look as I grit my teeth. But It's too late."You've forgotten about New Year's Eve?"Soon, Leah had everyone's attention, except for Miss Will. The one teacher who seems to like me and would defend me or get the girls to shut up."Yeah, they kissed on New Year's Eve!"Half the girls squeal in jealousy and in excitement. One girl even asked what he tasted like. "Guys, it's not true." I tried convincing them it didn't actually happen, but they wanted to believe Leah. I was in shock for a moment. She didn't say anything about the money."You know it's true, Atarah! You all can ask him when you see him." She tells the girls. Oh God. Again. "Yeah, he may even still have the money he got paid to do it for."The girls begin questioning if that part is true, forgetting about me being in the room, and asking Leah for all the information. I walk out of the classroom with my bags and spend the rest of my day behind the school dumpster. I knew it was too good to be true. Of course, she was going to tell everyone.With only twenty minutes left in the school day, I begin to lose the last bit of tension in my body and mind, and try my best to let go. I walk around, out to the playground. Sit on a swing, sing a song to myself. The song that my grandma used to always sing to me. She loved her daughter more than anyone else. I never knew the name of it. But I still remembered every last word. I understood the lyrics more and more every time I would recite them. And even more still when I realized who I was.It was an original. By my aunt Lora. She wrote it, recorded it, dropped out of school, like any rebellious teenager, and moved from Arizona when she was eighteen. I never met her, but I wish I had. I don't even know where she lives, because my dad doesn't talk to her, or even want to. She cut all ties with the family. It was true that she loved my grandma, but my dad just had to drive her away. I think the first time I truly understood the lyrics, even the tiniest bit, was when I was maybe eight or nine. I sang it in my room as I was cleaning, and my dad overheard me. He flipped out, and told me I wasn't allowed to sing it anymore.It was strange at first to me. That a song could cause so much tension, so much controversy. My dad could never just accept people for their differences. He tried to pretend he could be around me if I ever came out to him, and still does. But I see past it."The words he'd never be blessed to hear, the cloud that's over my head. When you started listenin', it all made sense, my friend." I like to think that Grandma was the one who helped Lora brave her storm. As for "he," I was just about certain that she was referring to my dad. Who he once knew as his brother left so she could be herself. She felt like she couldn't do that around her brother, so after living in hiding, secretly using my Grandma, who at the time was oblivious, as an escape, she found something that made all of it worthwhile. I hope she is out there somewhere living as the girl she always had been.Given that Lora was in the same kind of position I am now, terrified of how my living conditions would change, you would think that my dad would be more supportive. That was his sister. And he tells me that he loves me. It would be no different if he knew how I felt. I'm still the same on the inside. If he truly loves me, I don't understand why he would make this topic off limits in our house. Because no father would let their son leave them, just like his sister did.I should have quit, but I couldn't stop thinking about it. Overthinking. If my dad didn't go looking for his sister, why would he do that for me? Now, not even the least bit convinced that my father loves me, I slowly make my way back to my hiding quarters, behind the dumpster. I pick up one of the shards of glass on the ground, from a broken bottle. I roll down my black sock that reaches my knee, and take out all of my frustration. I'm not proud of it. Lora wouldn't be proud of me. But every second more that I think about how many people would be disappointed in me was another second longer the shard of glass pierced into my flesh, until the entire thing was painted red.