Room To Grow (Frerard) (Completed)

10-Jamia Is Me

Trigger Warning: Some of the comments made in this chapter are transphobic and potentially triggering. If you would feel better off not reading it because of that, DM me and I can explain the plot.

Somehow, as Frank entered Ms. Way's classroom the next day, he knew something was off.

The sky was clogged with bulbous grey clouds that drifted slightly west with the wind that existed solely in the sky. Meanwhile, the air on the ground was eerily still and almost stifling.

Lindsey hadn't bothered to greet Frank when he had entered the school; she had been busy in her office behind a closed door, although her muffled voice could be heard as Frank passed the secretary's desk. The usually irritable woman actually managed to smile at Frank, which only made him feel more certain that something was very wrong.

Frank had navigated the hallways by himself, something he had been able to do for a while now but still made him smile slightly with pride, although maybe the half-grin was in response to his increasing proximity to Ms. Way's room.

When Frank stepped into the usually warm and welcoming classroom, he immediately saw Gee seated in a chair, her posture abnormally rigid and her face expressionless.

"Gee?" he asked gently, walking to where she was seated and kneeling beside her. "Is everything alright?"

Her face twitched, the blank expression faltering for a moment before returning. Her breathing was steady and focused, as if she was regulating it herself. As if it was the only thing anchoring her to sanity.

Alright was not a word Frank could apply to this situation.

He knew something was wrong, even if he didn't know what it was.

"I..." Gee said before her voice broke and she ceased talking. She inhaled carefully and shut her eyes to compose herself. "Just... Look on the computer screen. Read the letter."

Frank grabbed Gee's hand first and squeezed it reassuringly. "Whatever it is, you're going to be okay and I love you, got it?" She nodded, her lower lip jutting out slightly as she gave up on her rigid posture. Her shoulders slumped and her arms wrapped around her chest.

Frank nervously approached the computer, where an email was opened on the screen, having been forwarded to Gee by Ms. Ballato. Frank's eyes narrowed as he read the original sender's name: Susan Stump.

Oh shit.

"Dear Principal Ballato," the email began, already putting an acrid taste in Frank's mouth.

It has recently come to my attention that a member of your teaching staff claims to be transgender. Not only has he lied to us on the PTA about his gender, he has also tried to corrupt our children. Yesterday, my young and impressionable son came home and told me that his teacher used to be a boy and was now a girl, and that he wanted to be a girl too.

This is unacceptable. That this man has been masquerading as a woman and is trying to persuade others to do the same is absolutely disgusting. And that you would knowingly hire this heinous individual speaks to your possible inadequacy as principal of this school. I place my son's wellbeing over everything else, and because of this I want to protect him from the influence of those who disguise themselves as women and prey on young children.