Old habits die hard (boyxboy)

(1) Washing powder problems

Deryk POV

As the bell rang for the start of the term, so did my ears with the shrill sound of my sisters cries. Again.
"Deryk I just don't understand! I didn't do a goddamn thing to them, why did they do this to me!?"
I couldn't help but glare down at her new jacket, official merchandise from a festival she attended with her distanced boyfriend over the summer. Frankly, I never understood her excitement and bewilderment over dedicated weekends to music, yet I understood it meant something to her. I understood it meant a physicalisation of a memory of love and support she held dear, it's a support through times when the world's monsters reminded her of her unfortunate place on the Earth.

"I'll fix it for you" I spoke softly, leaning forward and pushing aside her dull azure hair to leave a reassuring peck upon her pale forehead. Gently handling the vandalized garment, I peeked round the corner of the college building to ensure our isolation then offered her a hand to her feet. She needn't hide away back here, if they think she's going to cower in fear after this they have another thing coming.
"Delilah, you know what you're gonna do?"
A glint of mischief in my eyes, I gripped her shoulders assertively and adorned a lilt to my voice
"Fucking strip. Show them how beautiful and strong trans women are and shake them brilliant baby tits!"
After a whole hearted bout of laughter, I effectively coerced her into her own body of confidence, rather than garments that she claimed boosted that.

Of course, in education, you can't exactly walk around naked, but she did the next best thing. Braving a fresh hot pink lingerie styled bra underneath a much too tight light grey shirt.

Beaming with pride, I strode beside my sister proudly on the second day of college as heads and bodies alike swivelled to judge and whisper about the promiscuous pretty lady. As that's what she was, not a single letter painted upon her beloved jacket previously represented Miss Delilah Braun remotely. Yet sadly those very letters are truly threatening and realistic encounters she faces much too often. Which is why, once more, I've found myself with Kellan in the athletics section as he sneaks my laundry in with his permit to the campus' laundrette.

"I don't know what I'm gonna do if it doesn't come out..." I muttered to myself, not caring if he heard it or not but shoving my face in my tanned hands anyways. Kellan soon piped up though, unable to resist a taunt.
"Surely you'll come up with something, I wouldn't worry. That too big head of yours has gotta be good for something"
His plump brown lips tilted upwards in a cheeky snickering smirk as he threw me a lopsided grin past his tousled curly brown hair. Simply rolling my hazel eyes, I hoisted my weight atop the whirling machine all the while scowling at my old friend.
"Yeah and your lack of brains is good for getting my laundry clean, so that's something I guess."
My voice snaked around his ears, turning his attention to me. High school Kellan and I were a pair of geeky go lucky students. Sending our time together hunting for Pokémon on our brick like phones, or admiring historic novels under dim roofs of grand libraries. No matter what it was we were happy together. Then our social skills flourished, or shall I say his, leaving me alone with my books and games and him growing accustomed to the life of a fletching footballer.

He went from a nerd to a twat, to summarise.

Clicking his tongue, Kellan approached me as he shrugged his athleisure college jersey off, modelling his toned training body through a black vest and shoving the jacket in the machine.
He spoke hastily and without thought, you could tell when he was unsure of himself because his signature strong eye contact faltered and he poses as though something else has piqued his interest.
"You know all too well I'm not thick, Deryk Braun. Just got a sense of self, and you don't like it 'cause you're gon kick the bucket alone now!
Told you, a twat.

"Well you're not all that Kellan Williams, we all know I'm only here because of you."
Catching my look, his verdant eyes scrutinized me, confused.
"What's that meant to mean then?"
"Well if you're mates weren't such pricks my sister wouldn't be strutting without a gift from one of the few who aren't a transphobic dick like you."
Sure, the angry tone to my voice matched with the forward lean into his personal space may have been pushing it. However if I'm being honest, I hadn't pushed him far enough.