Different colored minds

She's hot

ALIANA POV

I don't know which is worse telling people my boundaries, so they walk all over them or not telling them my boundaries so that they walk all over them anyway. Is it worse knowing that you want them to put in effort and they won't or not telling them to put in the effort because you know what the outcome will be? And on the off chance that they do intend to fix whatever they're doing wrong, there will always be another thing to fix. and if they don't choose to fix it, you have to either let the boundary go or you have to leave the relationship. Which is more important; my boundaries or my relationships and why do I have to choose between the two?

I'm standing at the doorway to the party. Inside just beyond me are the sounds of a drunken crowd. I can feel their energy busting around the door hinges. I can smell their blazen excitement skip around the window frames.
"Aliana!" There's a voice behind me. My hands close against the knuckle. I open the door to the house and step inside. Once I'm inside it all doesn't matter. There are hoards of people to get lost in like Venice. I went there one summer with my mom. Walking down the streets at twilight we threw away the map and let our minds get as lost as we could. It took us an hour to get unlost later, but Italy never looked the same afterward.
"Aliana," his hand is gripping my shoulder. I yank it free.
"Why didn't you ask him?"
My face whips around to come inches away from steven's. He chuckles as he looks down at me.
"Got a crush on someone else? What about me? Would you go out with me if I asked?"
Has he already been drinking.
"Steven. Did you pregame before coming here?"
"What's it to you?"
"You said alcohol gives you stomach issues,"
"Again, what's it to you?"
"What do you mean what's it to me?" All the sudden he's closer. A lot closer.
"I mean it's none of your business so leave me alone," he whispers. I turn away.
"Watch out, or somebody will see you blushing," he adds. I give him a broad smile.
"I'll keep it in mind," I go to walk away.
"But really, you didn't ask him?"
Steven isn't usually this pushy. It's odd. Since a few days ago hes been off.
"Whats it to you?" I counter. He looks at me downtrodden then shrugs.
"Enjoy your night," and then he gives me a broad smile and saunters off. My hand is still in a fist. I don't trust him. He's always been a good guy and I don't say that lightly. But it's like he's lost his interest in people all together. He looks lost.
"Aliana," another hand is laced over mine now. I turn to see one of the girls from cheer. She's one of the few freshmen on the team.
"I'm so excited to be here. Is the rest of the squad around? Have you seen anyone?"
I can barely hear her over the din of people's chatter. There's music throbbing from the other room too.

"I'll go check, see you around!" She screeches in my ear and runs away. I'm getting overwhelmed, I need to find an out. I can feel my hands shaking. My eye catches on a bubblegum pink curtain covered window across from all of the crowd. The window looks open. Air.

I dodge through the crowd, sliding through noiselessly. I don't want people seeing this affect me like this. I deal with that kind of stuff alone. I have to deal with it alone. Because, if anyone knows, I'll be condemned as a freak----

And then I see her. She's standing by that window sill. Her hair is jet black with sparkles weaved throughout it. She looks celestial in her bright pink body suit. The cuffs are singed into parachute pants. The top is a boned corset with pale white chevage and shoulders visible. Then from her biceps down to her wrists is disconnectable light pink tulle sparkling sleeves. She's painted in moonlight.

I'm shaking worse than ever. She's hot. She's too hot. She wouldn't talk to me. I can't go to the window. She's not safe. I don't know her. I can't panic front of her.

I feel something push hard against me from behind and stumble backward onto the floor.

People are everywhere. This is how I'm going to die. In a crowd. Trampled to death by hundreds of feet. But isn't that what I want? To die? Calm down. Calm. Down. I can do it. I won't die. I shouldn't die yet. I'm working the shock out of my system when a hand reaches out to me, her arm covered in sparkling pink tulle. I take her hand and wobble to my feet. My heart is in my throat.

"Thanks," I mumble.

"You're welcome, I was just gonna go get some punch, wanna come with?" Her eyes are a honey color.

She's wearing thick black liner done in a cat eye with long glossy lashes, she's so freaking hot.

"Sorry, but, what's your name?" I stumble around my words.

"Abel, but I go by Abelle," she smiles at me. She's beautiful.

"Yeah, I'd love to go with you," I look towards the crowd one last time. I wonder if someone else asked him to come with.

"Crowds are rough," she says. Her smile broadens.

"Yeah," I laugh.

"I mean the worst. Like the flashing lights. I kind of get it, it's a party. The music turned up, I don't mind they're good tunes. But throw the whole zoo in on top, terrifying," Abelle shivers sarcastically. I laugh again. I can't remember the last time it was this genuine. Maybe the day our team beat the school rivals a week before his accident. The week before that hellish game.

"Do you want punch? I'll get you some," Abelle grins. I shake my head. The punch is alcoholic.
"Alright, more for me," and then she's off.
I stand at the open window with my elbows pressed into the frame. The air outside is cool and crisp. It feels like liquid freedom. It's intoxicating.
Too soon Abelle is back.
"So what's your story?" She starts.
"What do you want to know?" I ask back.
"Anything," she giggles and gulps down her glass. Her cheek bones glint with highlighter in the light.
"There's not really much to say," I stutter. Not to a stranger.
"My parents are both psychotic and my therapist thinks that's why I'm trans," Abelle replies.
My heart drops through to my stomach.
I look back at her.
"What's that look for? didn't think I was a trap?" Abelle laughs, happily swigging away her alcohol.
"My parents are psychotic too," the words feel freeing the second they leave my lips.
This whole talk with her feels more freeing than just about anything else in a while.
"Do you think your therapist is right?" I ask. I don't even know what comes over me. She gives me a long and hard look.
"I don't think it's fair to blame my parents for my choices," she states.
"My parents make me not want to be a girl," I state with equal frankness.
"Why?" Abelle asks. Why? No one's asked me that before. No one's seen me before. Not like this.
"My dad thinks that one day I will grow up to be a mom of a bunch of children. He thinks I'll be cleaning and making dinner every night. He might be right. Maybe I'll find someone that makes me want that. He thinks that's my only option. He acknowledges that I have a brain but I'm still not a boy. my opinion is less. He doesn't respect my input and he certainly doesn't listen to any wisdom that could come from me. I can't help but think it would be easier if I was a man. I could ask a girl out. I could hold her hand. I could protect her. I could protect me. I could stand up for myself."
"Unless you're a man that identifies as a woman. You wouldn't believe the things people say to you once you identify as a trans woman. They must forget we're human too," Abelle spits.
"Sometimes I think people get so blinded by their own view they forget they're human too."
"And some people know how hurtful what they say is. They know that I'm human. And they do it because I'm
Human, because they know that I can be hurt. I constantly have a target painted on my back. There may be no respect for women and there's even less for a trans one," abelle takes a dark swig from her solo cup.
"I think you're brave, I don't have the guts to do what you're doing," I state blankly.
"It's not brave. I just want to be myself," Abelle sounds livid when she says it.
"And you couldn't be yourself as a guy," I state. It's not a question.
"Yeah," Abelle returns.
It's an odd thought. I've considered it plenty of times. Transitioning. But every time I almost flip the switch I think of all of the things I'd miss being a woman. And even if I did transition, it could never be all the way. I'll always know I was born a woman.