Chapter 8

I wake up to the scent of sweet syrup and the sizzling sound of bacon. I am able to hear music playing softly across the hall. I stayed lying down with my eyes closed, enjoying the peacefulness I felt here. The light hum of the fan that was pointed toward us stops. Then, my eyes flicker open, and I sit up like a little boy in the movies that just had a nightmare. Realization flooded in too fast, and as I took a look at my surroundings, I'm startled terribly by Sebastian. He was on the left side of me."You okay? Don't worry, you won't be late for school. I'm always up early, so I wouldn't have let you sleep in too late."

"Oh, no, thanks. Yeah. I just forgot where I was for a second," I laughed, my voice cracking since my throat was so dry.

"Dad's making breakfast, and mom is probably at the junkyard."

"Junkyard?" I ask as I get up and reach down to grab Noa's uniform. Jackson came into the bedroom right before I was about to fall asleep last night. Sebastian had slept like a baby through all of it.

"Yeah, she has a bit of an...embarrassing hobby."

"Oh, come on. I'm dying to know now."

"Well," he begins, as he finds a brush for me to use. "She's really into music and using her creativity as an outlet. So she makes her own instruments."

"Instruments? That's awesome! Honestly! What kinds of things has she made? Are they made up, or does she make copies out of her own materials?"

"Both," he smiles, surprised I was so interested. "Mainly copies, like guitars, she made a ukulele, and even a couple flutes. But she also makes her own instruments that play themselves. She sets it up as a chain reaction, and she watches her hard work play itself, and she always perfectly times it."

"Wow. That is an amazing hobby. I wish I did things that were worthwhile."

"Hey, don't blame yourself. We're both teens, and so was my mom once upon a time. Once we're free of school, that's when the magic parts start sprinkling in. And, I wouldn't say cluttering the living room with trash is worthwhile. But it was the one thing that distracted her when she missed my dad."

"Let me guess," I groan, trying to get all the knots out of my hair. "You're gonna be moving out as soon as you graduate?"

"Maybe. I might as well drop out." Sebastian gets up and stands behind me. He reaches for the brush in my hands and then walks over to his closet. He has a box with tons of sprays, detangling products, gels, oils, and leave-in conditioners. Even some powder. I'm not sure if it's for hair or not.

"Let me brush it. You'll have hair just like me."

"And who said I want that?" I tease.

"I know you're kidding. Who wouldn't want hair like this?" He dramatically whips his hair and runs it through his hands. He steps close and shoots me a fake-seductive smile. I woke up with hair like this."

I can't help but laugh at his mannerisms and smile at the fact that I had woken up in such a good mood, thanks to him. "Get over here. I wanna get ready, then devour some bacon downstairs."

"You may have to fight Chloe for all of it, and Ana for a single pancake if we don't hurry," he laughs. "Don't worry. Your hair is in great hands."

Growing up, I hated people touching my hair. One of my favorite movies was one we watched last night: Rapunzel. We both admitted that we wished we could have hair as great as hers someday. She was my inspiration, because no matter how different we were, I had the long hair, and told myself that I would take great care of it, and people will see that it's great to have those things that make you stand out. Of course, that was after I realized I was a boy, but before I realized how many people were against it. But for Sebastian, he can have long hair, because it looks so nice, and the old people just love to admire it, and brush it. God forbid I come out as transgender, then keep my long hair. What kind of freak would they view me as?

"Come on, Rapunzel," he teases, pushing his hair products off to the side of his dresser. "Let's go downstairs."

"Wait. I gotta get dressed first. And, I-" My eyes practically bug out of my face as I look down for the first time this morning. As Sebastian stretches, his oversized shirt lifts and reveals that he had slept without his pants all night. "Ah, y-you probably should too!"

Taken aback but looking pleasantly surprised, Sebastian lets out a tired laugh. "Sorry about that. I should have warned ya, but your reaction was priceless!"

I bend over and pick up a pair of sweatpants that were on the floor and throw them at him. "Put your pants on! I'm getting dressed now. Save me some bacon."

I carried the stack of clothes to the bathroom. I hold out the pullover sweater, and my heart drops slightly. That's right. I can't be Lucian today. Jackson also brought the shirt, but it was a little chilly outside, and half of the classrooms had the air conditioners on all year long most days. I slip on the skirt that was altered by Noa's cousin. She cut the skirt and sewed it to make it look like new. So it was much shorter than what I was used to. God, I have to go out and face Sebastian looking like this? In the pocket of the shirt, there was something inside. Noa, if I find something illegal in here, I swear- Inside the shirt pocket was a note. I smile to myself. Such a considerate friend.

"I heard about your grandma after you texted me. I'm so sorry. I wish you had told me so I could be there for you. But I'm glad Sebastian was there for you. I know I'll see you at school, but I hope you have the best day you possibly can."

As soon as I open the door, I feel self conscious, and keep pulling my skirt down further until I can't anymore. Once I see that Sebastian isn't in his room, I go in and find my jacket I wore here last night. I needed to do one thing before I ate. I only brought one thing with me last night. My journal. I needed to escape, and all I thought that could help was writing my feelings down. But then I got the idea to go to the park. The run to the park turned into a sprint to Sebastian's house. I kept the composition style notebook in the pocket in my jacket. I liked it because it was warm and oversized, and I had a very nice lining. There was also a big pocket on the inside like those sketchy salesmen in the movies had.

I only considered staying the night at Sebastian's house because I had left my book bag at Noa's, and she would be able to bring it to school for me. I was very glad I did. He made me feel better, and not just by distracting me. We both face our problems, and talk about the dark stuff that nobody else wants to. He's so comfortable with himself, and that makes me comfortable around him.

I will write a quick entry in the journal. I usually write about things Noa and I did, so I don't forget about the small things that made me happy. Sometimes I'll write about the girls at school. They can be so shallow, and so unbelievable that I have to write it down. And some days, I scribble down furiously how I feel about everyone belonging to cliques. Even Noa belongs to the theater kids. I fit in nowhere. I don't do sports because I don't have the time, and I am terrible at acting. Then, toward the back of the book, is where I write down everything I feel about my gender identity. The days I felt confident. The days that someone made me feel happy about my appearance, people around me I once saw showing support to the community. The day Jesse got me a binder for my birthday. The day I came out to Noa and her moms. It's all in there.

I quickly make my way, downstairs, and feel all eyes on me. It felt strange. Seb's dad glanced over as he stacked three good-sized pancakes on a plate and sat them down at the empty spot at the table. Ana and Chloe with their adorable brunette pigtails and large smiles giggle to themselves as they loudly whisper to Sebastian, who was across the table from them, "She's pretty!"

I smile warmly at them and thank his dad for everything. "Thank you, Mr. Galanis, and you must be... Chloe, and... Ana?" I glance at each of them as I say their names. Hopefully, I've correctly guessed who's name belonged to whom. Chloe was slightly taller, so I assumed she was the older one. I was actually right, which, given my luck with previous social interactions, was quite the surprise.

"Are you the princess that Sebby likes?" Ana asks. I just smile at her as I look up at Sebastian, to the right of me.

"Go brush your teeth if you're done. You don't want to get gross bacon teeth," Sebastian warns.

The girls both dramatically scream as they rush their tiny bodies upstairs and into the bathroom.

"Gotta keep those teeth clean, huh?" I laugh.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about them. I told them that your hair was pretty and long like princess Rapunzel."

"You talk about me? Oh, how cute!" I tease.

Sebastian looked into my eyes and just shook his head, knowing I was just teasing, but he looked at me with a hint of curiosity, as if he was trying to read me. I look away, hoping he would, too. Reading too far into the mess that is myself would only cause disappointment for him. And for me too. I've decided that we can never be together, and even if he found out and accepted the truth about me, he would be either happy but pissed that I didn't tell him, or disgusted even more so and would stop even being attracted to my personality.

I dive into the delicious stack of pancakes and grab a few pieces of bacon from the plate in the center of the table. I smile at Sebastian gratefully. "Thank you so much. For being so welcoming when I'm here."

"Well, we're not assholes, and, you're pretty fuckin' awesome."

Before I can even respond to his surprising complement, his step dad pulls Sebastian's hoodie. "Hey. Quit with the swearing, Bud."

"Bud?" Sebastian shoots him a confusing look. "What am I, ten?"

"You act like it. Now stop trying to impress the lady, finish eating, and get outta here."

Their conversations sounded a lot like mine and my mom's. But they had a strange connection and relationship. Then they both start...laughing? They're teasing. They're talking like they're feuding, but they're not vicious like my mother. This was never the case for my family. We either fought, or sat silently at the dinner table and ate without looking at each other. A tear threatens to escape one of my eyes, but I blink rapidly and fast enough as I turn my head to look out the window to avoid any outbursts. "It looks nice out."

"Yeah, it does. I like going out for a run before school if it's not too cold. But I should drop you off at Noa's so you can still make it on the bus," Sebastian offers.

"Thank you, so much. I would really appreciate that. And, I am so grateful, again, for everything."

"You were sad and scared, Tarah. And, I'm always happy to comfort my best friend."

"Best friend?" I ask as I gently put my plate in the sink and rinse off the syrup.

"Well, I mean, it's hard to put labels on such things. I don't really have a lot of friends. Mainly Jackson. And then you. Just like you have Noa and Jesse, and hopefully me, too?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah," I reassure. "You've seen my ugly-cry face. There's no going back now."

We both share a small laugh. I awkwardly followed him up to his room. I grab my coat and put it on. My journal, however, slips out of the pocket when I bend over. Being the incredibly kind person he is, Sebastian practically dove to the ground just to pick up the book and hand it to me. "Here. Wait, you... brought your history notebook with you last night?"

"Um, between you and me, it's actually a journal. Where I write down more personal stuff. I disguised it so my parents wouldn't go through it."

Seb quickly nods in understanding, not wanting to pry. "Oh, got it. Got it. So, whenever you're ready, I'll give you a ride to Noa's."

I wanted to see Noa as soon as possible, to tell her everything. I didn't even tell her about my grandma personally, or over text. She had found out from my parents, I'm assuming. Sebastian was the first person I told. He was the first person on my mind. I also wanted to stay here forever. His room was warm and cozy, he had really nice blankets, and his family was so kind to me. Ana and Chloe come running down the stairs in their dresses, ready for kindergarten. I remember having a pink dress quite similar to Ana's. I would wear it all the time, because I would get so many compliments. I guess that they never really made me feel good, but I still went out seeking them. Seeking validation and attention from those who I thought mattered, all because I had no idea who I was. I wanted other people to tell me I was a "beautiful girl," so I wouldn't have a doubt in my mind. I dreaded something like that being true. Before I knew what it was called, I heard the kids in my class just call it "pretending you're a boy." And that it was disgusting. I used to be terrified of going to hell. But now I don't know what to believe. I do know that who I am isn't a sin. Now I long to be called handsome.

I still find myself wanting approval from the important people in my life, though. Not to confirm my gender, but to know that I can be honest and still keep my friends. It's terrifying to think that it could either end incredibly, with your friends all accepting you, and throwing a party and congratulating me, or with having nobody left. Having everyone you thought loved you leave your side because you were finally honest. And all they loved was the shell you had to hide in.

"Come on, Tarah. Let's go."

"Yep, coming." I fiddle with one of the corners of a page in my notebook as I follow Sebastian downstairs. His sisters are struggling to learn to tie their shoes themselves. I crouch down and help them, and give them each a high five before saying my goodbyes to them and their dad. Sebastian and I make our way out to the driveway. I shuffle my feet uncomfortably, remembering just how short this skirt is. I very carefully got inside of his car, making sure the skirt was pulled down as far as possible.

"Wow. That's some skirt you got there."

"Oh. Don't get me started," I sigh. "Next time, I'll just skip school all together."

Either Sebastian didn't get the joke, or he was still really coming off strong, reading into things. "There's gonna be a next time? Well I am just flattered."

"Hm, I'm not so sure of it now. Either way, I am never again requesting to borrow one of Noa's uniforms."

"I'm surprised she didn't cut the sweater. She does love her cropped sweatshirts and hoodies. Can't anything in her wardrobe be a complete article of clothing?"

I laugh as he slams on his steering wheel dramatically. He was so cute, just rambling about stupid things. He was able to make me think, laugh, and smile. But he was still there when I didn't want to think, laugh, or smile. . Every conversation with him is a memorable one.

"Sorry, sorry. Do I scare you? I should probably focus more."

"No, no, you're fine! I mean, yes, please keep an eye on the road. But, please, don't apologize for being you."

"I wish my parents were more like you," he breathes out.

"Really? I thought you said that they were free spirited, and let you do what you want."

"Oh, they do. But, they don't let me be who I wanna be. They would be embarrassed of me completely if they knew I was gay."

"Oh, I see now. I thought they knew."

"They've been told. Time, and time again."

"No, don't tell me..." but I knew what this was. I felt this way just bringing up the LGBTQ+ community to my parents. They don't listen.

"They just pretended not to hear me, or tell me that I'm just confused, because I'm a horny teenager."

"I understand. N-not your parent's reasoning. But, I understand having parents like that. At least your parents aren't strict with you. But, I guess it does feel nice to have rules. I'd rather have strict parents that accept me than lenient parents that don't want me to be myself."

"Thank you, Tarah."

"For what? Having shitty parents?"

"No. To be open enough with me to tell the truth, and tell me about personal things. It makes me feel trusted, and like I can trust you."

"I feel the same way. Thank you, for the millionth time. For last night, and just everything. You know, my parents really are similar to yours in a lot of ways. They don't want to see the obvious. They ignore it and try to shape you. But as long as you know that they just have their own opinions."

"The wrong opinion," we both add in unison. The rest of the ride was awkwardly silent after this. We just listened to music that was fading in and out on the radio.

Sebastian quickly dropped me off at Noa's house and drove back home so he could finish getting ready. Noa and Diana are on the porch, both wearing eager smiles. The sun peeked through the clouds, contrasting from the dark sky, casting a shadow over the house, but I can still see their eyes gleaming with hope.

Diana's grin shifts into a supportive smile as she nods to Noa, who has just whispered something to her. She approached me and met me half-way up the porch steps and gave me a hug. "Hi there, Lucian. Your parents gave Noa the message last night. How are you feeling?"

"I'm gonna be alright. Thank you, Diana."

"So, what happened last night?" Noa eagerly asks, despite the dark atmosphere that seemed to cloud me once more.

"Nothing, really. Sebastian comforted me, we watched a couple movies, then went to bed. Oh, and he wasn't wearing pants. But, I actually didn't act like a complete idiot around him this time."

"Well, it sounds like you've been through a lot, hon. Would you like to eat breakfast with us?" Diana asks, taking my hand and leading us inside.

"Thanks, but I already ate."

Ashe was sleeping in, because she didn't have to work today. Jackson was shoveling his mouth full of cereal, but stopped as he saw me walk through the door. "So, you and Seb? Are you-"

"No! No, no. Not at all. He was just kind enough to comfort me," I shake my head rapidly, though my heart felt like it was aching more. It's like I couldn't process both my feelings for him, and the death of my grandmother at the same time. I knew last night that it would be unfair to act on anything, regardless of his sexual orientation. I didn't want to take advantage of the situation. Once I got that through my head, my focus was on anything but that. Jackson just had to bring it up.

I don't even understand myself. Why do I keep thinking about him like he's someone I should be pursuing? He was probably just being nice, saying that he liked my personality. If he saw me as a boy, he would still reject me. In school, I was taught to never say never. But I don't see myself coming out to him anytime soon. By the time I'm ready, or it just spills out, he will most likely already have a serious boyfriend. Something that makes me sick to my stomach. Crushes come and go. But it doesn't feel like that. I think that part of me isn't telling him because at least right now, I can still be close to him without risk of that changing.

"Your hair looks great today, by the way," Noa points out as she fills her water bottle, accidentally spilling some water on the kitchen counter.

"Oh, thanks! Sebastian did it."

Diana and Noa both glance at each other, giving each other a knowing look, and it was very obvious that they are still rooting for me and my potential love story.

It was only seven o'clock, but Noa had a quick practice before school she had to get to, so we had to get a ride from Diana. The theater club puts on a play once every semester, and skits during homecoming time and the end of the year. Sometimes they would even plan holiday skits. The one they've been working on is a Valentine's day play, about what would happen if Romeo and Juliet both came to their senses and communicated, instead of Juliet faking her death, and Romeo killing himself.

"And this year, I finally have one of the leads!" Noa exclaims.

My eyes light up for her. "What?! You didn't tell me this! Are you Juliet?"

"No, I'm actually Romeo," she says, slightly quieter. Of course, given we go to an all girl school, there wouldn't be a male Romeo or any male actors. But I knew that since Noa was a little girl, she had dreamed of becoming an actress. This was just the beginning for her, and it was just a school play. But it was something. But I knew deep down that Noa wanted to leave this school just as bad as I did.

Still, the pain in her eyes slowly fades away as she discusses the play. It didn't matter the role, as long as she could act. And then, it occurred to me that maybe, if I just focused on my main goal, I can get the courage to be honest with everyone about myself. It doesn't matter where I am. As long as I can be myself. I'd rather be hated by nearly everyone around me, and love myself than pretend to be someone I'm not just so people won't think I'm weird. I've been telling myself for years that I would come out to everyone, but something's still stopped me. I just can't seem to find what it is. When I try to say it, the words don't come out. Nothing I do will change the fact that some people just don't accept people like me. In the end, it wouldn't really matter all that much if I came out today, or ten years from now. But, if I do it now, I may just possibly... be happier.

Only five minutes after seven o'clock, we are already on the road. Diana and Noa in the front, and me in the back. I had finally gotten a hold of my bookbag, so I stuffed my journal in there, so it didn't accidentally fall out of my coat pocket again. I watch the side of the road as we race to the school so Noa has enough time to practice. She knew the original play by heart, but she had some trouble last week, so she felt as though she had to make it to the optional morning practice. I was just going to sit in the auditorium and watch them until they are done. Some girls would get there early to do each other's makeup and hair in the bathroom. They were all like clones. It's pretty creepy, if I'm being honest.

I look up at the sunroof and see that the sun is still hidden by the clouds. That's how I feel today. With everything going on around me, I can't enjoy the small things that truly make my day, like the fact that I spent a whole night with Sebastian. Or that the pancakes his dad made were the best I've ever had.

When we finally get to the school, I stay behind for a moment, sitting in the backseat.

"Are you going with Noa?" Diana asks.

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry."

"No, if you want to stay for a minute, you can. Do you need to talk?"

"I... think I do."

Diana keeps her eyes on the school as Noa walks inside. My best friend was too excited and eager to get inside to even realize I wasn't right behind her.

"Diana? When did you come out? How did it go?"

She looks back at me and smiles softly. "That depends, sweetheart. My friends knew before I did, even. I always knew deep down, but before you can come out to anyone, you have to come out to yourself."

"I think I got that part down."

"I think you do too. Now, before I tell you this, you need to know that everyone's experience is different. Don't feel pressured to come out unless you are ready."

"That's the thing, Diana. I don't know if I'm ready. I mean, I think I am. I'm tired of pretending. But, something's stopping me, and I don't know what it is."

"You can't get the words out?" She asks, reaching behind her and offering me her hand.

"No, I can't," I admit, nearly whispering my confession.

"That's normal, honey. I felt that way too. It wasn't until I met Ashe that I told everyone. Everyone at our school found out during prom. She asked me out, and I rejected her."

"You did? Weren't you two already dating?"

"Not many people know this, and I don't even think Noa does, if I'm being honest. But, we were off and on during college. But, yes, we were dating for the first time when she asked me to prom. She wanted to tell everyone, but I was scared. But then, I grew even more scared that I would lose the love of my life. Then, I had three weeks to make a decision: Do I wait until I'm out of school to tell everyone and risk losing her, or do I just forget that people won't always be accepting, and be happy with myself for being honest? I'm not saying that you should come out for the sake of other people. I didn;t exactly have the right motives in the beginning, but I realized then that my mental health, and getting that out was more important than what others thought of me."

"Wow," I responded, "that's... very wise. I love that. I... that's great advice, really."

Listen to your heart, Lucian. When the time is right, you'll have the urge to just say it, and come clean. When that happens, the words will come out. And, it will feel amazing. Freeing."

"But, what if I get treated differently? Like, the teachers start purposely giving me bad grades?"

Diana squeezes my hand gently. "I'm gonna be blunt with you. That may happen. The next thing you would do is tell your parents. And, knowing your parents, I'm going to tell you this now. You are always welcome to come to our house, and stay as long as you need, no matter the circumstance. We're your family too, honey. And once you're free, we'll help you find where to go."

I wiped away the few tears that trickled down my face with the sleeve of Noa's sweater. I grab my bag, and get out of the car. I walk to the other side, and Diana is already opening the door and standing up to give me a hug. "Thank you," I whisper.

***Leah Jameson sits down in the seat to the left of me, as always. I watch her curiously as she takes selfies on her new phone, silently judging her own facial features, checking to see if the pimple on her chin is visible, or if her makeup is covering up the faint bags under her eyes, and her freckles. I decided that for once, I would be a nice person to her, though she's usually the last person I want to interact with."New phone?"

"Yeah, it's the version that just came out."

"That's cool. I heard it has really nice camera quality."

Leah puts down her phone for once, and looks at me as I speak. "It does. I was just taking some pictures."

"You know, I think your freckles are really pretty. Why did you start covering them up?"

Leah shrugs. "Makeup is for covering things up. Making things pretty. You should know."

"I should? Is that a compliment, or...?"

"You used to wear makeup all the time, and then you just stopped. Why is that? You didn't get rid of that scar on your forehead, or the birthmark on your neck."

"There's nothing wrong with letting people see the real you," I explain, already kind of regretting this.

She lowers her voice, as if she's scared of someone overhearing. "I think you're really pretty, Atarah. With or without makeup. But-"

"Don't even say it, Leah. You're gorgeous. Wearing makeup is okay, but only do it for you. Not because you're afraid people might judge you."

The bell rings, and everyone pulls out their notebooks, preparing to take notes. Leah glances at me one last time, not smiling, but not scowling in anger or frowning in disappointment or disgust. I was surprised that she even talked to me. And, she called me pretty! It was more like I was reflecting onto her, but I was getting sick of her flawless-looking self judging every move she makes because she feels pressured to be a popular, perfect teenager. Maybe, there is a slight chance I got through to her. Whether or not I truly did, I still knew I had to listen to my own advice eventually. Why not now? I don't have to use my voice for the words to get out, right?

I pull out my journal. The one labeled "History Notes." I set it down on the desk, and quickly opened it to the back. After looking around to make sure that Miss Leroy still hadn't entered the classroom yet, I stood up and left the classroom, and headed to the bathroom. Miss Leroy was sometimes late by a minute or two, so I figured now would be the perfect time. Even if I do get lectured, I know this needs to be done. Now, I need to wait, and hope that Leah is feeling as nosy as any other day.

Leah often texts through class, not paying any attention, just like most of the other students in my class. So, she grabs my notebook the next day, and copies the notes I took that day before class starts. If she doesn't look and see what I've written, now isn't the time.

I wait about three minutes, and then take my time walking back to class. Thankfully, I met Miss Leroy in the hall, which meant that she hadn't yet reached the classroom, so I wouldn't be tardy. Tardiness on my record meant a lot to my mom. She nearly flipped out when I had a B in English. To her, being late means I'm not fully committed to working hard in each and every class. I can't wait to be rid of her rules.

My heart feels like it's going to stop, and my stomach hurts terribly. I let out a barely audible whimper as I reached the door of the classroom. I took a moment to peek through the small window, and, sure enough, there was Leah. Standing up proud with my journal open, flapping her lips as the rest of the class sits silent with their mouths parted, some even recording it. I open the door for Miss Leroy, and then follow behind her with a very slight smile on my face, and pale, if not green-tinted skin. Am I really doing this?