Being a Boy| On Hold

Fitting In

By day I was a boy. But at home, I was a girl.

Wheatly Academy didn't allow any girls to attend, which sounded totally ridiculous to me. It was the only high school in the US where you were guaranteed a job after you graduated. A good paying job too, with a salary of at least $70,000 a year.

The only problem? They only allowed boys because apparently, some bigshot from Narnia or some shit came up with a scientific theory that women weren't capable of working after age 20.

Well, guess what? The fucking pussy can talk after I cut off his testicles and shove 'em all up his butt hole.

Kidding!

 Am I?

Now, Wheatly Academy was an all-boys school all right, but it didn't exactly hurt that I came from a rich family. I'm not saying that you're supposed to buy everything in life, but I'm not gonna lie, my parents did buy me into the school.

Problem was, I wasn't supposed to tell anyone or I'd be kicked out. And this is the story of why I have to pretend to be a boy at school.

Now, you're probably wondering about a lot of things.

Tina, but where do you use the washroom?

  Going to the washroom isn't that hard. I usually don't even go to the washroom during school because all the washrooms are nasty as hell. But when I do, I just pretend I'm taking a dump. It's a wonder how most boys are so oblivious to the fact that I've never used the urinal before.   

Who are your friends?

  I don't have any very close friends at the school, so it's easy to be invisible.  

What happens in the changeroom?

  In changerooms, it's not like everyone strips down starch naked. And I sometimes change in the changeroom stalls, though I get a few strange looks from a few people. Usually, though, I just change in the bathroom stalls before gym.   

Don't you have, like, boobs?

  Okay girlfriend, yes, I have boobs. Problem is, they're practically non-existed. So it's pretty easy to wrap a bandage around them so it's not that obvious. Plus, I always wear baggy shirts to cover them up just in case.  

What do guys even talk about?

Guys are immature asses, but they're just like girls. They gossip 24/7, about the hottest celebrities, fangirl(boy?) over bands, and check out all the girls who come over after school for some eye candy. 

The only difference is that they can go on and on about sports, whether girls can do the same for makeup. 

OOooOoOOOooooh so what happens when you get your period?

I wear black pants. Duh. 

Oh, and to change. . . well, I just bring my personal garbage bag underneath my huge hoodie and throw it out later at my house. I know, gross. But unless I want to get busted, then I can't just put it in the normal trash cans.

*Le gasp* So you're not allowed to wear makeup?

Unless I want to come to school looking like the clown from "IT", no, I'm not allowed to wear makeup, and I prefer not to either. Nobody has the time to wake up at 6:00 am just to cake crap over your face, only to smudge or wipe it off in Phys Ed. If you do, I applaud you and your dedication to no sleep.

And finally. . .

You've never actually dated anyone before?

Yes Einstien, my last boyfriend was Parker Smith in grade 2, and let's just say it didn't last a very long time.

<3

I've always hated Gym. Call me basic, but being shoved around by guys who are all 6 feet tall and all muscle isn't exactly what I'd call fun. Compared to my 5 ft 3 inches, I was nothing to them. I was also terrible at all the sports we did. 

Unless there was a dance option in class, I was most likely failing.

Since coming to this horrendous school, I've accumulated multiple nicknames. "Pretty Boy" is the most common. " Thinney McSkelebones "; mainly because of my lack of muscles and height. There were some others, but none of them ended up going around.

as I started to stretch before Gym started, I sighed. Four more hours to go. Whoo Hoo.

Suddenly, a huge commotion started up outside the changeroom. I blinked. There was a new guy? Oh, joy.

"Settle down everyone!" Barked Coach Jenners.

When the boys finally stopped giving the new kid those weird man-hand/hugs/shakes/pounding on their backs every guy does when seeing their "bros", everyone finally shut up. 

"Class," introduced Coach Jenners, "This is our new student: Carter Evans." Then he went on and on about the rules of basketball, for the 3rd time this week.

When I was sure he wasn't looking, I surveyed Carter. Nice looks. He was basically oozing confidence. Your basic fuckboi. Brown hair with blonde highlights, gelled up to perfection. Dreamy chocolate brown eyes you could drown in. A body most people would kill to have. You could practically see his 6-pack through his shirt. Damn, he was tall too.

I mentally slapped myself. What was I doing? But when he smiled, it felt like my heart was going to jump out of my chest and commit suicide. Ugh. No Tina, nonononono, you can't be catching feelings at a time like this. Fuck my life.

"Pair up everyone!We're going to practice passing the ball," yelled Coach.

As usual, I was the only one without a partner. Groaning under my breath, I prepared myself for the walk of shame. 

As I got up, I ran into the world's most rock-solid chest. Ouch. As I prepped myself to tell whoever it was to kindly fuck off, I was met with the most swoon-worthy brown eyes in the world.

"Do you want to be partners?"

Fuck.

<3

Hi there people:) My name is Nutella(not literally, though that'd be awesome). I'm horrid at writing, but I like to think I'm halfway decent(hehe).

I'll be updating at random times, maybe once a week, maybe once a month.

If you like this story, please vote and comment! Don't be a silent reader;)

xox

Nutella