"Ugh, I have to teach D how to bind her boobs with an Ace bandage tonight," S groaned, complaining to our friend C as she worked on an assignment on her computer.
At the desk next to her I raised an eyebrow.
"What? Why would you do that?"
"For the preview show tonight," she explained. "We can't wear bras because of the design of the uniforms, but I'm not performing without some kind of support. A said we should use Ace bandages."
"No!" My jaw dropped. "Don't you know how dangerous that is?!"
"We'll be fine," she scoffed.
"No, you won't."
I picked up my phone from its place on my desk and quickly Googled "binding with Ace bandages." About a dozen articles appeared, each one describing the horrific damage that Ace bandages cause. I held it up to show S.
"That's gonna fuck your chest up so bad. I'm telling A she can't let you do that."
"It's not a big deal, Lizzie."
"It is!" I blurted out. "I'm not performing if any of my teammates are gonna be risking their health like that. I refuse and I'm texting A right now."
I opened up the messages app on my phone as S turned away from me, annoyed. C continued to stare at me in silence for a moment as a tear rolled down my face.
"Do you need to go for a walk?" She asked quietly.
I nodded and the two of us stood up together and headed out into the hallway, not even bothering to tell our teacher where we were going.
"I'm sorry. I don't know why this is upsetting me so much," I told C as we neared the end of the English hall. A few more tears had trickled from my eyes as we walked. "I just... I have enough trans friends to know that binding with Ace bandages is a bad idea. Hell, no one should be binding at all while exercising!"
"I know," she told me. "It's gonna be ok though. They're not gonna do it."
——
I sat in the cafeteria a few hours later, still upset about the events of that morning. My friends ate quietly, not wanting to bother me.
A buzz from my phone shook me out of my daze and I picked it up to read the message on my screen. It was my ex.
"Hey, I heard about what happened and I've already texted A to say that I agree with you. You're 100% right about how dangerous binding like that is."
I stared at the message for a few moments before typing up the last response I'd've expected of myself.
"Can I have a hug?"
Their response came back almost right away: "Yeah, I'm in the art room."
"Guys, I'm gonna go. I'll see you later," I announced to my friends, throwing my half eaten food in my lunchbox and standing from the table.
They said goodbye to me and I practically ran out of the cafeteria.
I peeked through the doorway of the art room to see my ex standing near the front of the room, waiting patiently for the teacher to finish talking to another student.
My ex caught their teacher's attention and gestured toward me. One glance at me sulking in the hallway and she nodded her head. My ex hurried towards me.
"Hey, what's wrong?" They asked as I collapsed in their arms.
"I don't know," I gushed. "I shouldn't be this upset, but I am. I don't want anyone to get hurt and A won't give me a straight answer. I've been texting her and she keeps saying everyone will be safe, but she won't just say that no one's gonna use the bandages."
"Don't worry," they told me. "We'll make sure that no one does anything to hurt themselves. I've already got a list of suggestions that are better than Ace bandages to share with everyone. It'll be ok."
I let go of them and stepped back to look into their eyes. Of everyone I'd vented to all day, they were the first to actually make me feel better.
"Thank you," I whispered.
——
I walked through the crowds of people in our middle school gym, enjoying the feel of my long skirt flowing behind me. We'd just had our very first indoor color guard performance of the season (with everybody safely dressed) and I was feeling great.
Heading out into the cafeteria, I sat down at one of the tables and watched as people walked outside with their families or milled around talking with friends.
A little girl, only a few years old, ran past me squealing with joy. Her older sibling, my ex, chased behind her. The two of them giggled as they picked the baby up and tickled her.
I watched the two of them playing together for a few minutes with a bittersweet smile on my face. I was never very good with kids, but them... they were just perfect. I'd always loved that about them.
"Hey," I smiled as I stood up and walked towards them. "How are you?"
"I'm good. How are you?" They replied, putting down their sister who ran, giggling, towards their parents.
"I'm ok. I was uh... I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to talk- you know about um, us."
"Uh, yeah sure."
"I was thinking maybe tomorrow. We'll have some free time before we perform at the competition. We could get some food."
"That sounds great."
I smiled.
——
"Oh, my break's over!" my coworker, O said, quickly standing from the table and grabbing his trash. "Gotta go!"
"Cya. I'll be back on the clock in a few minutes." I smiled at him and continued to eat my food as he walked across the dining room of the small burrito place we worked at.
I'd only been at my job for a few weeks, but O always made sure to sit with me whenever we had overlapping breaks. He was the sweetest person I knew.
Alone at the table, my thoughts turned to my ex. I missed them a lot, and after a long, thoughtful conversation yesterday, it really seemed like we'd finally put our differences aside. Both of us had admitted to our wrongdoings and apologized. Maybe we would be back together soon.
As I shoved the last bit of burrito in my mouth, my eyes scanned the restaurant and landed on O tying his apron. That's when everything hit me.
There are so many better people in the world than my ex, like people who would spend their break with a stranger just to make her feel welcome at her new job.
Over the past few months, every conversation with them was either an argument or apologizing for arguing. There were few actual moments of love between us anymore and every time it seemed like things would go back to normal, we just started fighting again.
Nothing would ever change and it was time to move on.
As my half hour break came to an end, I threw my trash away, finally understanding what needed to happen. I wouldn't allow myself to care about them anymore. I had to cut them out of my life.
YOU ARE READING
Look What You Made Me Do
Non-Fiction"Don't tell anybody about this." "If you just ignore it, it'll stop." "There's nothing I can do to help you." And so I did everything I was told. I shut up. I put on a brave face. I followed all the rules. But that was the past and it's not who I am...
