The Tomboy and The Boy

1-"Names Don't Have Gender Roles."

Maxi-

I've never wanted to leave.

I'm not one of those bratty teenagers who are always like, "I can't wait until I turn 18 so I can get out of this house" or "I need new parents because mine won't let me do anything at all."

Maybe it's because my parents used to be the best. Key words: Used To Be.

They became the worst when they shipped me off to a boarding school in New York City. To make matters worse, the brochure says it's "a co-Ed school designed for dedicated and talented students ready to work to improve their skills."

Yippee.

Anyway, I used to go to an all-girls private school in the state of Kansas. So, I have, like, zero experience in talking to the opposite gender.

Which is why I am probably the most bratty kid alive right now.

"Mom, I'm about to enter eighth grade in two weeks and you tell me that I'm moving halfway across the country BY MYSELF to go to a school with...BOYS?!"

"Yep," Mom says as she pulls baked chicken out of the oven and sets it down on a hot pad.

"Some kind of parent you are," I mutter before speaking louder. "Are you kidding? Because I won't be mad if you tell me right now that it's a joke."

"Nope," Mom says, undoing her pale blue apron from around her neck and hanging it on a hook.

"Wow," I say. And then I explode. "MOM, YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME! OH MY FREAKING GOSH YOU CANNOT PULL THIS CRAP ON ME!"

Now, I would have said some more choice words, but I didn't want to receive a Punishment with a capital P. They were awful, especially from a mom like mine. Last time I got a Punishment, I had to refrain from all my sports for three weeks. Three. Whole. Weeks. That got me kicked off my swim team for a while, but they let me back in after I begged for about three hours. I timed it. Three hours and fourteen minutes.

My mom turns to me. I can see the hurt in her face. "Maxi, I thought it would be good for you. It's school known for its amazing sport and art programs."

"No," I say.

"Too bad," my mom says. "We have a flight out there in four days, so start packing, okay?"

"Do I not get a say in this?" I demand.

"Nope," mom says. Then, she leaves the kitchen, calling for my dad.

I look around the kitchen for something to take my anger out in. I see the chicken. I see a fork. I stab the chicken with the fork repeatedly.

It doesn't help.

I don't think anything will.

~*~

Four days later and a lot more fighting, I'm in the car with my mom and dad as they drive to the airport in silence.

I turn my face to the window as my dad tries to engage me into a conversation. "Maxi-"

"Don't call me that," I interrupt.

He frowns. "What do you mean?"

"Justin Bieber," I mutter under my breath. I can't help it.

"I've always called you that. Everyone has," my dad continues.

"I don't want to be called 'Maxi' anymore. I want to be called..." I stare out into the early morning fog as I think of different modifications of my real name, Maxine. "Max," I say. Max. I like the way it seems like a guy name but BAM you see me, who is clearly a girl. Now I just need to act like it.

"Max?" My mom wrinkles her nose. "Honey, don't you think that seems a bit...masculine?"

"OH MY GOSH MOM," I say, my mouth dropping open in astonishment. "Names don't have gender roles. Like colors, or favorite foods. They're just assumed by the common human! So stop criticizing me. And now that you think it is 'masculine' I'm going to be called Max." I cross my arms, fully set on having the name Max as my new identity.

My mom drums her fingers of the steering wheel. "Okay, Maxi-Max. I mean Max."

I roll my eyes and stare out the window for the remainder of the ride.

When we get to the airport, I get out and grab my four suitcases. They're freakishly old, because my family travels about zero times per year. I'm pretty sure I've seen black-and-white pictures of my great grandmother using the same suitcases...

They're beat up and aren't zip. They're those clip sealed ones that could burst at any given moment.

My mom and I check my bags, while my dad waits in the car. I grab my sweatshirt, a book, my phone and charger and give my mom a hug. "Bye," I say. I'm not going to cry, I told myself. She's forcing me to do this, so suck it up and go with it.

"Bye, Max. I'll miss you," Mom says. She wipes away a tear. And I give it one last shot.

"Mom, if you're gonna miss me, why don't I just stay here with you?"

She rolls her eyes and shoves me towards the security. "Bye, Max."

"Bye." And I turn and face the daunting thing called the Airport. All by myself.

~*~

HI PEOPLE!!!!

OMG I'm so excited for this story.

I apologize for any mistakes because I was rushing and I was on an airplane and I don't really like planes. They make me feel cooped up and claustrophobic. Any one else? Just me? Okay.

Okay, thanks for reading! I'll try to update ASAP. Byesies.

Xox, Anna Petersen