I am ME [ftm transgender boyxboy]

[3] Just my luck.

[photo of the updated Lonnie]

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I stood frozen, watching her take in my outfit, my flat chest, and the phone dinging over and over again with Jessie’s name flashing on the screen. Needless to say, Jesse’s name was a bit taboo around here.

I expected her to screech, fling things, and hit me even. Instead, she very smoothly composed herself, gently seized the phone from my hands, set the hair extensions and makeup on my bed, and then walked away. I was instantaneously suspicious, and thought it best just to bail before anything radical happened. 

I did a once over of myself in the mirror and nodded, snuck downstairs, trying hella hard not to alert my mother. In a lot of ways, she was a sleeping dragon, and I was a kid with a rather large and obnoxious stick.

I snickered to myself. Ha, rather large stick…

No but really, one wrong move and I was deader than Justin Bieber at a metal concert.

I spotted my phone on the polished granite counter top in the kitchen, and not seeing my mother anywhere around, I hastily snatched it up and stuffed it in my back pocket.  

I dashed out of the house, gripping my backpack tightly, not willing to risk anything else. I mean, hell, one thing more and I might as well have bent over in a maximum security prison. That’s how fucked I would have been.  I giggled to myself as I walked, half out of hysterical relief, half out of pure idiocy. Man, my jokes were even sounding bad in my head now.

I wondered idly if people would recognize me. I never dressed like this, not even remotely. I’d always been unwillingly stuffed into one frilly dress or another. My hair was always styled in blonde ringlets and I was forced into wearing copious amounts of makeup. It was an epic feeling, wearing what I wanted for once.

I stopped abruptly, about a mile from the school. I wouldn’t have any friends when I arrived. That, I could count on above all else. I always hung out with, (though unwillingly) the kids that went to our church. Need I say more? I groaned in frustration and tipped my head back, cursing the overcast sky.

You know how everyone ALWAYS says, “Be yourself, people will love you!”

Well I can easily say right here, right now, that that is a load of bull. People love fakes. The more of a Barbie you are, the more you will be loved. The plastic smiles and plastic hearts, that’s all people care about. If I walk into school dressed as a boy, I’ll be immediately shunned by everyone. Because it’s, “unnatural”. Fuck that.

I cussed and kicked a stray rock with my DC clad feet.

I gnawed on my bottom lip and thought. What was more important, being fake and miserable, but loved, or being who I really was, and hated.

“Can I help you young man?” the secretary asked in polite confusion.

Obviously I chose the latter.

“My name is Renee Winters, im late,” I mumbled, trailing off and trying to look anywhere but her face.

“O-oh,” she stuttered, her face mingling into disgust.

She didn’t say anything else, just wrote me a pass and ushered me out quickly. Before the glass door shut behind me, I could hear whispers breaking out in the office, tones of blatant revulsion in every murmur. I hung my head and my face smoldered red in embarrassment as I walked alone down the deserted hallway. This was going to be one hell of a day.

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“Fuck,” one guy exclaimed loudly as I walked into the chemistry lab. I scowled at him and took my seat in the very back at the only empty station. By this point the Professor regained her composure and pursed her lips, not at the boy who cussed, but at me. I slunk down low in my seat under the scrutinizing glanced of my fellow classmates. Holy hella damn was this gonna be hard. Like a dick, I thought to myself, smirking inwardly.

The class went on for some time, the teacher droning in her usual low monotone about some useless shit I would never use. I was currently very interested in the discoloration of the ceiling, and was examining that pretty intensely when the door to the lab slammed open and a boy bounced in.

The teacher jumped, startled, and a few girls shrieked. I just stared.

“Hello ma’am, name’s Lonnie Blue Silvers,” he said, smiling widely as he revealed a dimple in the creamy paleness of his left cheek, “just call me Lonnie Blue.”

The teacher started to say something angrily, but he interrupted with exuberance, “let’s get this outta the way first, shall we?” he said, rubbing his hands together and grinning, revealing perfect white teeth, “I hate this class, I’m so gay it hurts, and I despise unoriginality so those of you who feel the need to make my life hell, impress me with your insults, would ya.”

And with that he swept to the back of the room, and by some stroke of unfortunately fortunate luck, he plopped right down next to me, beaming and saying cheerfully, “you looked like the most interesting.”

I groaned and smacked my forehead against the cool surface of the table. As if Mrs. Jones needed another reason to hate me.

During the remainder of the class we were supposed to do something with different chemical compounds, though it wasn’t like I was really listening. Gee, wouldn’t it be a fabulous ending to a fabulous day if I somehow eradicated the school?

“So,” Lonnie Blue began cheerfully, “what do we start with?”

I mumbled something incomprehensible and tugged on a pair of idiotic goggles over my head, gesturing for him to do the same.

He seemed a little bit deflated afterwards, and I sighed, smiling reluctantly at him. He immediately perked and grinned back. I had to admit, he was utterly attractive. It was stunning really.

He had shaggy black hair that hung in his face and around his neck, flipping out. His eyes were a deep, rich brown and were framed by thick black lashes the color of midnight. He was tall, but not too tall; just enough to be perfect to lean your head on their shoulder. Although, I thought, it was a pretty bony shoulder. He was pretty damn lanky. Not that I was complaining.

“Hellooooo?” he cupped his hands around his perfect mouth and called to me, breaking my trance. I immediately flushed pink and he smirked, amused.

“What's your name?” he asked, smiling wide enough to show his dimple, “and don’t tell me something stupid like, ‘none of your damn business’, I actually need to meet cute boys today or my cousin will kill me, alright?”

I just sat there for a second, stunned. I thought fast, do I tell him my real name? No idiot! He’s cute! Curse my damned hormones! I gnawed on my lip and answered him quietly, with the first name I thought of, “Preston,” I murmured.

“Coolio! Holy hella damn Preston, you look nice,” he giggled loudly at my stunned face, “damn, are you straight? Sucks.”

I started to answer back, but decided against it. Hell, I still didn’t know if I was transgender, how was I to know my own sexuality even?

“Hey Preston, do you know this girl Renee Winters? She’s my cousin’s,” oh god don’t say it, I begged, “boyfriend’s,” in the name of Gaga shut your pretty mouth, “sister,” he finished and I felt sick to my stomach. Of course. Of course it just HAD to be him.

Luckily, the bell rang before I was compelled to answer and I rushed out of the class.

“Hey, wait up,” yelled Lonnie Blue. I just ducked my head and kept running.

I ran from Lonnie Blue all week long.