When I Was Alphie

Chapter Eleven / The Universe

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Chapter Eleven / The Universe

Life reaches a certain level of normalcy after Sartaaj's betrayal.

Despite wanting to live a life of Hermitude following the events that took place at the nature preserve, my friends don't let me. Both Tim and Gemma cling to me like molecules at school, until it gets to the point that Gemma follows me to the bathroom and I snarkily ask her if she wants to hold my dick for me while I pee. Their clinginess is both flattering and frustrating; I know they're following me around to make sure I don't crap out on them, but I'm growing tired of being ushered from class to class with my head down like I'm some low-level celebrity avoiding the paparazzi.

It takes about a week for me to become confident that Sartaaj isn't going to share my nudes and out me. Logically, I know he's bisexual and that outing someone else is equivalent to kicking another guy in the balls: it's a low blow and goes against unspoken conduct. Still, I feel uneasy knowing he has pictures cataloging my biggest insecurities and some of my most vulnerable moments.

Though he hasn't had the chance to approach me, along with the fact that our school boasts two thousand students from several towns, our school has become too small overnight. Suddenly, I can see the familiar gait of Sartaaj around every corner I turn, his dark head bobbing in the stream of people in the hallway. A few times we've made eye contact and he has looked like he's about to come closer or shout something loud enough for me to hear, but then he's noticed I'm never alone and a look of defeat will cross his face.

The situation was wounding, yet somehow made me feel slightly bolder, at least helping me to give less of a care. There's something about being exploited, shoved to the ground, fucked - not made love to - by someone you thought you liked that kind of puts things into perspective.

Much to my parent's chagrin, and surprisingly to no one else's care, I've gone fully back to my regular self with a slightly braver flare. I wear a skirt to school one day and a guy thinks I'm a girl from the back, stopping mid-hoot when I look over my shoulder in surprise and he realizes he catcalled the token gay kid. In the morning I apply glittery eyeshadow that begins to flake off by the end of the day. At the grocery store, someone stops me and tells me I am "very brave" with a pitying glance; they think I'm trans, which I'm not, I'm just playing the parts of Alphie and Anna simultaneously.

When I'm alone I feel happiest. It doesn't matter where; my car, the bathroom, waiting in line at the pharmacy to pick up my medications. In solace most of the troubling thoughts flee my mind, the thoughts of my divided family, my worried friends, and the turmoil that plagues my mutilated body all seem to still when I'm truly by myself. The people who care the most are the ones that remind me of all the problems I have.

By mid-November my craving for solace has me sitting in my family's car between classes, absently gazing across the student parking lot, reading webcomics, or typing up vengeful, hurt texts I want to send to Sartaaj and every man I've slept with. It feels good to let it out and erase once I've written a block of text. I use words like invalidate, phobic, and misogynistic. It becomes a ritual until the weather dips to a temperature too cold for me to keep up the habit much longer.

This was really why I decided to start going to Momo's, choosing a tiny table tucked far away in the corner of the café to make my new place of solitude. The thought that Caroline might be working wasn't one I pondered for long; I knew she was older than me, likely close to graduating college, and that being a barista was probably a temporary gig she took on part-time.

The first time I saw her, she was working the espresso machine, frothing milk, and pulling shots with the fluid motions of someone that had a hobby with rhythm in her free time. Thankfully, she wasn't the one working the register and taking the orders. Still, she gave me a sweet smile over a foamy cappuccino and said in a voice that suggested we were dear friends, "Hey, hun!"