Chapter 43: Chaoter 43

After finishing up the meet-n-greet and logging out for the day, I noodle around on my phone, texting Jeffrey and Dana about tomorrow’s upcoming DnD session. It appears as though they’re as excited as I am, with Dana promising to bring snacks for everyone, and I find myself drifting off to sleep with a smile on my face.

In the morning, as my alarm clock beeps and chimes, I sit up and thumb the button, silencing the accursed noise-machine. My phone is buzzing, indicating that I’d received a message from someone. Reaching over, I light the screen up and pull down the message tab. It’s an email from Y. Kirichenko, and I feel my face lighting up.

“Dear Ms. Porter,

This is a confirmation that your appointment this Thursday at 15:00 is still happening. You don’t need to bring anything, just turn up and sign in with your preferred name. Looking forward to meeting you in person,

Yaya Kirichenko.”

I shut off the screen and lay back, giggling. This is great! Just a few more days, and I’ll be meeting someone who can help me, and I might be able to transition sooner rather than later! I sit up, then sigh happily. This is such good news, I don’t even mind boymoding today!

Tugging my jeans and a hoodie on, I run my brush through my hair, before tugging it into a ponytail before heading down for breakfast. My parents are both in the kitchen, my dad tinkering with a small device as mum puts her phone down. They look at each other, and then at me.

“Kylie, dear… you’re going to college like that?” my mum asks gently, as she takes a seat at the table. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable… as yourself?”

I nod. “Of course I would, but I can’t go to school as myself until I get approved for medical transition. Dana told me that she takes sublingual estrogen and spiro, but there are injections you can do instead, or patches. The results take longer, but they’re safer compared to having a surgeon reshape your whole body from scratch. Although, thanks to the money I make streaming, that’s the option I’m looking at most. It’s got a very high success rate, and it’d be over in a few weeks. I’d still have to take pills, but it’d be like having the process fast-tracked…”

 

Dad leans forward. “You’ve given this some thought, haven’t you…? Kylie, let me make this clear. You are our darling daughter, and we just want to see you happy. So, we will support you, whatever you decide to do. But first, please go to therapy for a while?”

I smile. “Of course! Don’t forget, we have my first session with Yaya on Thursday! 15:00?”

Mum sighs. “She’s grown up so much, hasn’t she, Thomas?”

I huff at mum as she moves around the table to wrap me in a hug. “Of course I am! I’m a big girl, after all!”

Dad resumes his tinkering with the odd doohickey he’s working on, smiling. “Go on, behave, the pair of you!” he chuckles lightly, and I kiss my mum on the cheek, escaping from her grasp to do the same to my dad.

“I’m off, see you when I get home!”

Grabbing my bag, I head towards the front door, pausing to call, “See you when I get home, Houseworth! Have a good day, okay?”

“Of course, Ms Kylie. I hope I will definitely…‘see you’ when you return! Have a good day at college!”

Okay… that was ominous. But then again, Houseworth does tend to use certain inflections when not strictly necessary. Shrugging, I head for the grav-train station, meeting up with Jeffrey on the way.

“Yo, Ky! Ready to pick up our DnD campaign tonight? Ironhand… is… fully…functional!” He boasts, mimicking his character’s method of speech. I chuckle, nodding. “Yeah, this is gonna be sweet. Naa’ril Cryptsworn is ready to take the frontline once again!”

The ride to college passes as we gab about the upcoming session, and I can’t help but think that today is going to be awesome. As we pass through the gates and into the locker room, I dump my bag in my locker and head for homeroom. As I sit down, the girl in front of me turns round.

“Hey, did you hear? We’re getting a new student today! It’s a bit late in the year, but whatever. I hope they’re a cute guy!” she giggles, and I shrug. Even if it is a cute guy, I still wouldn’t be interested, since I’m a lesbian. But I’m gonna keep that little snippet of information to myself, at least for now.

Mrs Hawkshead enters the room, and claps her hands together.

“Okay, you lot, settle down! We have a transfer student joining us today. He’s come from one of the States, so please welcome Jared Wallace!”

The door slides open, and a slim black boy enters, his face relaxed in an easy smile. He IS pretty cute, but not my type, since I don’t swing that way. From behind me, I can hear a muffled gasp. Craning my head, I can see Jeffrey. He’s staring at Jared like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time. Ohhhh damn. Jeffrey’s down horrendous for the new guy!

 

The first three lessons pass steadily, with Jared taking a seat on my left and to the front. He doesn’t make any fuss or seem to be that phased about the whispering going on around him; he just gets on with the work the teachers assign without any hesitation, answering clearly and confidently.

 During lunch, I tease Jeffrey a little as he huffs good-naturedly, and we discuss plans for tonight’s session. As I take a bite of my sandwich, a shadow falls across me. Looking up, I swallow my mouthful, making eye-contact with the new guy.

“Hi. May I sit here? There are… a lot of very ‘friendly’ girls who keep following me; I’m hoping that you two can deter them, at least for now.” He says quietly, and, while Jeffrey’s vocal cords are temporarily tied in a knot, I take it upon myself to answer.

“Sure, you’re more than welcome to join us.  Sorry about the girls, they can be kinda one-track-mind about cute guys.”

He frowns. “You… think I am cute?”

I cough in shock. “No, not me. The other girls!”

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He sighs. “Thank whichever deities are appropriate here… wait… OTHER girls??” He takes a closer look at me, his deep grey eyes boring into me. I tense up, hoping against all reasonable hope that he’ll think I just made a slip-of-the-tongue.

“Ah, I see. Boymoding?” he sits down, conspiratorially whispering, though the noise of the lunch-hall would’ve drowned out all but a shouting match, so I relax a bit.

“Yeah… I guess I gave myself away, huh…”

Jeffrey snaps out of his paralytic state to almost hurl himself between us. “Dude, you’d better not say anything about this…”

Jared looks up, blinking. “Why would I say anything? It’s not my place, and frankly, if someone is gay, transgender, non-binary, or whatever makes them happy, then I say more power to them. They’re doing their best to live true to themselves, and that’s a good thing.”

 

I stare at him, and Jeffrey relaxes back into his seat. “Sorry for biting your head off like that. Ky’s my best friend, and I don’t want her getting hurt… I’m Jeffrey, nice to meet you properly.”

“Jared. The pleasure is mine.” The dark-skinned boy grins, before he takes a sip of soda. “But you didn’t exactly give yourself away. I suspected as much already. My gaydar is quite accurate, after all, since I am.”

Jeffrey falls out of his chair, and I whirl to help him up, before snapping my head round. “I… I see. This is a topic we should leave till later. Too many eyes.”

Sure enough, as I help my friend up off the ground, there are several dozen sets of curious eyes looking our way. Jeffrey rights his chair and plants himself back into it, eyes wide. I groan, then turn to Jared. “Sorry about that, you just blew his mind. I’ll... give you a minute, let you work out why.”

 He pauses, carefully chewing on a bite of rubbery pizza that smells faintly of grease and chili, before his eyes glow with the light of understanding. “Him, too? He’s… shall we say, a ‘three-dollar bill’?”

I pause, then look at him. “I don’t know what that means. If you’re asking if he’s gay, well… yes.”

Jeffrey recovers, about to protest, before Jared smirks. “Oh, really? That’s good, he’s just my type.” Turning his gaze on my best friend, he drawls, “So... I bet you know all the good bars and clubs in this city, yeah? Pick one, and we’ll check it out!”

As he finishes up the last few scraps of his lunch, Jared departs, and we stare at each other. Jeffrey sighs. “Y’know, I SHOULD be mad at you, but I think you somehow got me a date? So I guess we’ll call it even.”

Giggling, I finish my iced tea. “If you need my help to wingwoman for you, just let me know, buddy!”

The remaining lessons pass, and I realise that my final class of the day is PE. Oh no…

Heading to the changing room, I’m in and out in moments, leaving my stuff in a corner locker, as I dart out onto the field for warm-up. The college allows long hair regardless of gender, as long as it’s tied back during certain classes, so I tug my black locks into a tight ponytail, feeling the weight of it thump softly against the bottom of my shoulders.

Standing in the centre of the field is Coach Owen, her short hair ruffled by the stiff breeze of late autumn/early winter. She’s cute, in a tough, no-nonsense way, and the legends of her giving extra ‘training routines’ to guys who hit on her during class border on nightmare fuel. Hundreds of reps, dozens of laps, and physical drills that would make Hercules weep in fear. Despite this, there’s always ONE guy every year who thinks that they have a shot with her.

“Ah, Ky, you’re the first one out? That’s unusual, are you feeling okay?”

I shrug, tugging my tracksuit top into a more comfortable fit. “I guess. I’ve been working through some personal issues, but I think I’m making progress.”

She claps me across the back, making me stagger a little. “That’s good to hear! If you ever need any advice, or someone to talk to, come see me! I don’t trust that berk they keep bringing in once a month to be a ‘temporary counsellor’ as far as I can throw him! Seriously, I could throw him pretty damn far, he’s built like a twig!”

I giggle, and she winks at me. “Anyway, if you’re ready, you can start your warm-up laps, okay?”

I nod and begin running my three laps of the track, other students trickling out and joining in. after the run, some stretches and basic exercises, before we cluster around Coach Owen, as she blows her whistle.

“OKAY, everyone! Time for volleyball! Now, let me just count up the numbers…” she begins to run a headcount of all the students. Nineteen boys, seventeen girls.

 

“Ah, slight issue, there are two more boys than girls, one of you is going to have to play on a girls’ team. Any volunteers?”

I wait a few minutes, before holding my hand up. “I’ll do it.”

Coach Owen smiles and gestures at the boys. “Shame on the rest of you, be more like Ky!”

I shake my hair out as I join one of the three girls’ teams. A couple of them smile and make space for me, with one of the more popular ones teasingly saying, “Well, look at this! With your looks, you belong on this team anyway!”

 

I blush and look down at my feet as the coach sets up the nets and we array ourselves on the court. I swallow, as I stare down the field at the opposing team. Looks like I’m batting for the right team. Or balling, at least.

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