Chapter 13

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"Matthew?" Miss Young asks from her desk. "Can you come up here please?" 

A couple of heads turn to my way. I deliberately ignore them, flip my book upside down, and walk up to the English teacher. Miss Young takes off her reading glasses and put her hands in front of her. "I just graded your assignment that was due on Friday," she states. Miss Young cocks her head to the side. "This is the first time you've only written a couple of sentences, and not even close to what you were supposed to write about."

Out of the corner of my eye, Gwen is secretly watching the exchange. When she catches my eye, she slowly turns back to her reading. I turn my head back to Miss Young. "I guess I didn't know what to say," I reply. I can tell by her look she doesn't believe my excuse.

"Is-is there something going on at home?" she asks, her voice low. Yeah, that'll make this situation less awkward, I think. 

Shaking my head no, I assume the conversation is over. I go back to my seat. "Matthew." I stop in my tracks. "Come back here."

I resist the urge to huff. I plaster on a smile and walk back towards her. "Yes, Miss Young?" I ask, mustering as much happiness as I can manage without puking. 

My English teacher goes through a pile of papers until she finds the one she's looking for. She hands it over to me. "Why don't you read what you've written?" she offers. Let's not and say I did, I snark. I'm not in the mood to get on her bad side, so I do what she says.

"I don't feel comfortable under my skin. That's all I can say about myself." Miss Young was right. On paper I sound like a toddler just learning to express opinions in words instead of tantrums. I wordlessly hand my paper over. I try to make myself sound careless about it. "Would you have rather I tell a bunch of lies to make the 1,000 word limit? For a lousy A?"

Miss Young suddenly looks uncomfortable in her seat. "Well, no," she admits. "But I would have liked it if you tried to explain why you don't feel comfortable under your skin." When I don't say anything in response, she adds, "I get that you're not the type of person to write poem after poem about your emotions and fears, but I know you'll say enough about yourself to let anyone know what's going on if you want."

"Um, OK? And?" I rock on my toes. "Is that it?"

She tsks. "I'll put this assignment under 'missing' for you. Meanwhile, I expect you to write a better essay," she orders. "I don't care when you turn it in, but the sooner the better." I slump my shoulders. Geez, teachers just can't let go of some things.

Gwen tries to get my attention when I return to my seat permanently. Well, at least for the rest of the period. "What were you and Miss Young talking about?" she mouths.

I give her my best bored look. "You don't want to know," I mouth back. Gwen stifles a laugh. I smile a little, and return to my story. 

The bell rings shortly after, and I quietly pack my stuff up and leave. I can tell Gwen wants to talk to me, but I'm not up for a conversation. I bet Josh might like that, me ditching the damsel and he gets the chance to swoop in and save her. 

I barely pay attention to what I'm supposed to be learning in the other classes, and it doesn't register in my head that I'm now in a period where I'm supposed to eat. I only realized I'm at lunch when Josh jabs me in the arm and bluntly asks, "Hey, you got good shit in your lunch?"

Checking my backpack, I shake my head. "Must have forgotten it this morning," I say. Resting my hands on the table, I ask my best friend, "What's going on with you lately?" 

Josh groans. "I've only had a couple of conversations with my girl," he complains. 

"Technically, she's not your girl," I correct. "You two aren't an item."

"Technically, I don't give a fuck," Josh retorts. He pauses. "Hey, she seems to be fond of you. Why don't you try to get her to hang out with me some more?" He proceeds to give me the puppy eyes. 

I snort. "Yeah, that's going to make me say yes," I say, gesturing to the eyes. "And she'll get suspicious if I ask her about it." 

My best friend hangs his head. "True," he says. Josh crosses his arms and rests his head down. "How is Gwen driving me so crazy?"

"Um, are you talking about romantically?" I clarify.

Josh gives me a weird look. "No shit, Sherlock. I can be a romantic if I want to." I burst into laughter. "What? What's so funny about that?"

"You? Romantic?" I say. "Yeah. That makes as much sense as me coming out as a girl."

"Why would that happen?" Josh asks. He looks his eyes for a second. "And now I'm imagining you passing off as a drag queen." He puts on an odd look to express what he thinks of it. 

Both curious and teasing, I ask, "Do I look good in a dress?" 

"Surprisingly, no."

"'Surprisingly'? What the hell does that mean?"

Josh makes a sound of . . . OK, I don't know what sound he's made, but it's his answer. I put my hands up. "Fine. We shall spend the rest of lunch in silence."

"Ah hell no. That ain't gonna happen, Matthew." We sneer at each other, and then start laughing. 

When he's calm enough, my best friend excuses himself to get his lunch. I lean back in my chair to try to relax. One of my feet smacks a chair leg, and it starts hurting. There must be a blister there from my few more attempts to walk around my room in the heels. The second time hurt as hell, but I'm slowly getting used to them. I managed to walk around 3 times without falling down. If that's not progress, then I don't know what it is. 

I feel a buzzing in my pocket. I get up and take out my phone. It's buzzing again, meaning a call instead of a text. I go outside the building and answer the call without seeing the Caller ID. "Yeah?" I ask. "This is Matthew. At least, I think I'm myself. The aliens wasn't really clear about when I'll become whole ag--"

"Matthew?" the caller asks. I freeze. Some girls sitting nearby look in my direction, but they return to their conversation as soon as they realize there's no drama to witness. 

It's been about a couple of months, but I still recognize the voice. I get a hold of myself, and when I'm ready, I press my phone against my ear. In my calmest tone, I say only one word.

"Dad."


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