The Taste of Tears

Dave

Your name is Dana Strider and you are sick of your TRANSPHOBIC friends. Tonight, you were supposed to go out with a few of the girls, you told them that you were going out with them as Dave.

Bailey: No! Dana, you have to go as you! You're a girl!

Winter: yes i totally agree ur a girl deal with it gurl it up!

Taylor: YOUR A GIRL!!! GET IT THROUGH YOUR HEAD, DANA!

Their words mix in your head as you type them to your best friend, Rory Lalonde.

TT: Dave, these are not good friends! Why do you hang out with them, they're, excuse my language, total bitches?

TG: i know tt, i know.

TG: when am i getting the package of your clothes?

TT: As soon as Roxy gets her sorry butt off the couch.

TG: same, but with dirk.

TG: oh my god, they're not even texting me now!

You sit there typing at your phone while Rory is talking on the computer. You tug at your feminine fit squiddles shirt. You'll be giving these to Rory, but for now, your stuck with Dirk's pants, you may be twins, but you are not the same size! You huff and look down at your chest.

"I hate this." You scowl, ignoring the pinging of the program you use to talk to internet friends.

You put your hands on your face, sitting still in there's swivel chair. you felt warm tears escape your eyes, you wipe them away quickly.

This is getting annoying, the crying. You let out a growl of frustration and smash your fists on the keyboard, accidentally hitting enter.

TG: gtguiopklnv::;aseefxscvggrdxc

Rory responds, you ignore and push off with your swivel chair, tipping over because of the carpet. You cover your face, feeling a forming bruise on your back. Now that growl has turned into an angry scream. You hate crying, it's the last thing you want to fucking do! You're supposed to be a strong Strider, who doesn't cry.

You hear three sets of footsteps running to your room; two oldest brothers and your twin. You're the only girl.

Dirk bursts in with his glasses askew and his natural, soft spikes in the wrong direction. You take your hands off of your eyes to observe your three panicked brothers. The eldest is Bro, the second one you call Broseph. (Vice versa for Dirk)

"Dana, you okay?" Bro asks, staring blankly. "Your being uncool right now." Broseph sighs. Dirk is standing there quietly, fixing his glasses and walking to you. You stay in the chair. The other two walk out, shutting the door.

"Dave, what did they say?" He asks, sitting beside the fallen chair. You look at him, he takes off his shades, he removes yours.

"You're exposed." You let out a tiny snort and stare at him.

His orange eyes bore into your red ones. You hand him your phone and sit up, putting your hand on his leg.

Dirk tosses the phone in the trash. "It's a shitty flip phone anyway." He pulls you into a hug. "I think someone needs a hair cut."