Phoenix is in the In-Between [LGBTQ+ NOVEL]

Letter #7

7.

Dear Dr. Hemsworth,

Tomorrow I am starting at my new school. I'm going into the sixth grade. My old one is way too far away from this new house, and this new school is for all the kids of important people like Daddy. Basically, rich snooty kids that grew up with nannies washing their bums and none of them probably ever played soccer with a dirty ball and two cans to represent goal posts.

Before I left my old school, I didn't really have that much friends. The boys thought I would still be too girly even if I never wore a dress to school, and the girls all thought I was too boyish to hang out with them. I didn't mind that, but it did feel a little lonely. I'm a bit nervous thinking if it's going to be the exact same again this time.

I told Mom about it while I was sitting on her bed, watching her take out her earrings and wipe away the makeup on her face. I was just wearing my usual pajamas, but my Mom had just gotten back from another big event so she still wore this fancy navy blue dress. Looks like that's all she ever does nowadays, and if I was her I'd be sick of it—but Mom didn't complain. Or at least, I never heard her complain.

Anyway, I was sitting cross legged on the bed, watching her put down her new emerald earrings into this special box on the vanity. When we first got here maids would take them off for her, but she insisted that she wanted some privacy at the end of every day, or else she'd go mad. She didn't exactly say that part, but I just imagine that I'd go mad if I was her and I had to sit through people touching my face and hair all the time.

I told her that I'm a little worried about being the weird kid again in this new school. She said that that would be impossible because everyone knew me as the President's daughter. I got that sick feeling again in my stomach when she called me that, but I tried to ignore it.

"Besides, either way you're going to stick out. That school is known to have all the senators and important people's kids as their students, so all your classmates will have their own bodyguards or maids. That includes you," Mom said as she wiped the lipstick off her mouth.

"So you're telling me that there's going to be a whole group of bodyguards and nannies just standing by the hallway outside of the classroom?" I asked her, and she nodded. "Whoa," I said. I was already imagining a hallway crowded with buff men in shades, and snooty looking nannies just waiting to do everything their kid asks.

"You have to wake up before 7 tomorrow, and you'll have three bodyguards. But try not to mind them, and just go about your day. I'm sure you won't be the only one feeling nervous," Mom said, throwing the used tissue into the small bin next to her.

"But what else do I even have in common with all those rich kids?" I asked her. I already imagined them acting as if they own the world, not wanting to touch anything that they think is poor or dirty. I bet none of them ever had to make their own sandwich, or felt hungry because there was barely any food in the kitchen.

"Well for one, you're now the daughter of a very, VERY important person—and those kids are children of very important people. So that's something you have in common," Mom said, now turning to look at me. She looked much more like the mom I know without all that makeup.

"If Daddy wasn't president, I bet they wouldn't even look at me," I said to her. She shook her head. "Why wouldn't they look at you? You have that boyish hairstyle that none of the girls have," she replied. "That makes you special."

That made me feel a little better, until she told me that there's a uniform. And now I'm dreading the morning even more.

It's not enough apparently that I'm the President's kid, and I need all these guards around me all the time to fight people trying to kidnap me. Now I HAVE to wear a skirt, since it's part of the uniform. I wish you were a real doctor and just gave me some sort of medicine, because even just writing that makes me feel sick.

From, a very nervous Phoenix.