River

TW: swearing, bullying, transphobia, mentions of suicide

I take a seat in the back right corner. I'm in my Geometry class now. Math has always been fine for me. I got A's all throughout Algebra in 8th grade.

I don't dare turn my head to see who else is walking in the room. That's another thing I'll be teased for. For having a false sense of hope that someone will care enough to sit beside to me. To acknowledge me in a way that isn't a sneer. To even simply make eye contact with me.

I've only been living this way—fearful of my peers, ashamed of anything I do—since September, but my god does it feel like a tradition I've been partaking in since my existence.

I never thought I'd get used to being alone, abandoned. But I suppose this is my life now. I'll live this way as long as it gets me to graduation.

I look around the class. The desks are placed in twos, with 5 rows and three columns of each pair. Every seat is filled, except the one beside mine. I accept this. More quiet for me.

My sense of peace, enjoying this serenity is immediately taken from me when the chair next to me scrapes against the floor. It's that girl, Lilliana.

"You're late." The teacher, Mr. Macaroni, says to her.

"I'm sorry, I just got lost. First day of this class." She replies, anxiously.

"You a freshman?"

"Yes." She answers while glancing around the room. The whole class is peering back at her, but he nods and walks to the front of the room. "Sorry, this was the only place to sit." She whispers to me.

"It's fine..." I turn away and take my water bottle from my bag. Still facing the wall, I pull my mask down and take a sip. I immediately pull it back over my face. I face the front again.

"Hello. I am Mr. Mac. That is short for MacIntosh, but that was my father's name. I am not fond of my father." He speaks like a robot, and though I've known him for one singular minute, I can't help but feel some like towards him. We have so much in common. One thing only, but maybe thats enough to have my first friend.

I'm joking of course. That'd be genuine social suicide. More so than actual suicide. At least if I killed myself I would get an assembly talking about how "great" I was.

He starts attendance. He goes down the list. He  gets to Gabriella Kilmer. The M's are next. that's me.

"Johnson Miller." He says with no pause. It takes me a minute to realize what he's just said. My name. He repeats it again.

I raise my voice louder than I've spoken in a long time, "It's River, sir. And, here."

He glares at me. "Right. Yeah, I don't do that transgender bullshit. I swear all you kids have different names and pronouns every other day. Waste of my time."

I am in awe. Really. Maybe it's because I was not expecting to be called Johnson. Maybe it's because he immediately assumed my name change was because I was transgender (I'm not). Maybe it's because of how openly transphobic he was to a non-trans child. Maybe it's because I just heard a teacher say a swear word. I stay silent. I'm at a loss for words, really.

The rest of the class is shooting looks between Mr. Macaroni and me. I think most of their stares in my direction are sympathetic. I hope.

Lilliana nudges me with her elbow, "I don't think he's allowed to say that. Like, you can get him fired. Also, no idea you were transgender—what are your pronouns?"

At least she's being nice. "Uh, not trans actually, born a boy, still identify as one, so uh He/Him."

"Oh, okay. Still, you should report him." She gives me a weak smile, and looks back to the board. Mr.Macaroni is passing out our math textbooks now. He's finished attendance I suppose.

As he gets to the back row, he places a book on Lillana's desk, and then mine. He gives me a glare. Pathetic on his part.

Math is a breeze from there, thankfully. We do some review of what we learned last year.

The rest of the day goes by pretty fast. Lunch I sit alone, but Lilliana shoots me a few non-hostile glances. She's somehow in the rest of my classes as well. During French she has a proper conversation with Mrs.Bush.

Apparently, her mom is from Quebec, so she was taught French at home. I kind of envy her for it. I tried Spanish in middle school, but I got by with a C, which—in comparison to my other grades—is awful. I'm hoping French will be at least slightly easy.

Lilliana's friend, Jade, is also supposed to be in our class, but she wasn't here this period. Lilliana took double notes for her.

For my next class, I took art because I didn't know what else to, this was Lilliana's reasoning as well—she'd told me on the walk down to the class. However, her friends, Jade and Morgan, are there too, so she spoke with them the whole time.

I'm not complaining. I'm really not. Someone to talk to for 2 period is enough for me. Well, maybe not "talk to" but at least to shoot a side glance at when someone says something weird or annoying. She has a nice demeanor, and she seems like a genuinely kind person.

I'm just worried about tomorrow. She'll probably come over to my house, or I'll go over to hers to work on the Biology project. I don't think having my her over mine is a great idea, my mom will be either all over her, or extremely protective of me. She'll also see my room, which is covered in space decor. She'll see me as the nerd I am, and probably make me do all the work since I already know so much about space. Or she'll be so weirded out it and she'll leave. Is my room weird? I mean maybe to some people. Ugh I'll have to clean everything.

But she could also invite me over to her house... I wonder what her room is like. Probably dark with band posters on the walls. Or maybe an opposite aesthetic sort of thing. Maybe I'm overthinking this. All I know, is that I cannot fuck this up. So many things could go wrong. What if she sees me? What then?