The Porcelain Kids (Achillean)

Chapter Two: Sai

Dedicated to Arti; who has been the sweetest and kindest person to me and has held my hand through my self-discovery.

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12:45PM, Houston, America

I'm ignoring the teacher, and I'm gonna keep ignoring the teacher for as long as I'm in this godawful classroom, being taught this godawful subject. Shit man, send me back to P.E. even, I'm done with this.

"So your homework for today -" I drown her out again. Ignore. Blocked. This subject is blocked. The homework is blocked. Everyone and everything in this classroom is blocked.

God, I wish I could ditch and go hang out with Ave. But that's not possible unless I've got a spare thousand dollars or so and a pass to piss off for a week or two. Maybe three. We could go to all those beaches and to that weirdass skyscraper and to the Marti Gras there. There are even LGBT youth meetups and groups.

If I get a ticket to fly over, that's where we're going.

I glance up once to make sure that Ms Terf Bangs is occupied. She is -- busy telling off a student for passing notes around the class. Who even does that anymore? Just send one of Kik's "Secret Admirer" thing or something. Telegram it. Whatsapp it. I don't know what kids use these days.

I look sideways and watch Ms TB slowly walk through the desk aisles. Cree-pee. Is it even called an aisle? Who knows, probably not. Either way, she's coming closer and closer and I've gotta make sure my phone can't be seen. Teachers will confiscate phones if they see you mucking around with 'em during class. Ruins my day.

Screw it. I don't wanna be here.

"Miss? Can I use the bathroom?" I ask, using my sweetest voice. She looks at me.

"Period is almost over, you can wait," TB retorts, but I'm ready for it.

Finish him. Her. Whatever.

"Um. But, uh," I try my best to sound unsure and embarrassed. "I've got some. Monthly issues."

I hate calling myself a girl. I hate other people calling me a girl. I hate me or anyone else implying I'm a girl. I'm not a girl; never was one, and nor will I ever be.

But this works as well as I thought it would, and I can have my minor breakdown in the bathrooms.

"Take a bathroom pass," TB says, shuffling her feet slightly and Jesus, teachers looking embarrassed shouldn't be a thing because it looks sad.

I slip my phone into my pocket without her looking, grab my backpack and the bathroom pass, and leave my own personal hell behind. The bathrooms aren't too far away, but they're not close either, so I won't have any annoying people sent after me to check on what I'm doing.

I enter the bathroom and elbow open one of the stall doors. Lock it, drop backpack, put top of toilet seat down, and sit. Get phone and turn it back on. Open ten different social media apps and check my notifications. Most are pretty chill and cool people, but as usual I've got the occasional transphobe in my mentions. I respond, wait, respond again, and then block when the discussion becomes dry and redundant.

Ave is hopefully asleep by now. I try not to be too disappointed because he's got work tomorrow, and he barely gets enough rest as it is. My boy has gotta sleep, even if it means telling him two and three times until he actually listens.

I'm happily chatting with friends and responding to posts until the bell rings. I don't move out of the bathroom until I'm sure most of the people from my biology class would have passed and even more importantly that TB isn't lurking. I slip my phone into my pocket again and skip the cafeteria to go to me and my friend's hangout.

It's quiet here, no other kids come around here because it's too far away from the school, and the teachers don't come patrolling because we're pretty careful about revealing this place. You have to sneak past the teacher's lounge window before running past several storage crates used for P. E. supplies, and then you hit cover.

The bushes mostly shield us from anyone looking in unless they're staring right at us from the front, but unless some bystander is going to walk into the school and tell the secretary that there's a couple of kids hiding away, it's unlikely we'll ever be caught.

I'm waiting for Lilly and Greyson. Usually they're here before me, but Grayson actually eats cafeteria food, and Lily is pretty happy to take her time anyway, so I'm not surprised that I'm here first.

My phone is back in my hands and I play snake until Lilly arrives. I look up as she just drops down into the ground.

"How's your ass feeling after that?" Lilly sticks out her tongue. "Where's Gray?"

"Cafeteria's packed today. Apparently there's pizza," Lilly shrugs, and opens her white lunchbox to reveal two samosas, and a cheese stick.

"Did you pack the condensed dairy tube?" I ask, and she rolls her eyes.

"Piss off, Sai," I cackle evilly at her response. "I need to eat something with calcium in it, or my bones will whither down and break away. And then where will you be? Without me, your prettiest and smartest friend."

"I think I could manage," I snark back, and we bicker back and forth until Grayson finally arrives.

"I hate school cafeterias," he mutters, and kneels down. He holds a hand up when I open my mouth. "Shut it, you overly-opinionated dick."

"I've heard that one before," I sigh and nod my head to the side.

Lilly snorts and Grayson rolls is eyes.

"Only because you run a discourse blog online," Grayson says between a mouthful of pizza. "Maybe if you'd change your header from 'fight me sjws' to something else, you wouldn't attract so many weenies."

"But it's fun to rile up terrible people," I smile. "Also you're eating pizza with pineapple on it; you have no moral high ground."

"Oh my god, shut up," Lilly groans and I cackle again, only more exaggerated.

"We are not starting pineapple-pizza discourse. This isn't tumblr," Lilly says.

"We so are. You're all pineapple-pizza sinners."

When the bell rings, I head back into the school grounds, only now covered in greasy pineapple cubes.