Seeing In Color | Transgender

Chapter 12

Did you know that sea otters have a favorite rock? They take this presumed rock of desire and keep it in the front pouch they have. It's their special rock. They cherish it and find meaning in it. It seems as if this rock is more important than life itself. But then again, they are sea otters, so I don't expect much.

"We need to talk more." Rylan interrupts my thoughts. Curse him.

"We do talk." I debate as I look over at him. He simply continues to watch people walk by.

"Yeah, but it's only for 30 minutes a day, 5 times a week. We've gotta hang out, man." Rylan explains naturally. His ability to find comfort in small things and lock away any anxiety of talking amazes me. I wish to have the same ability.

"Ok...?" I didn't quite follow what he was meaning. This seems to happen often when I have conversations with him. Him and I are on contradicting wavelengths.

"Alright, you got an Instagram?" He finally looks over at me. He doesn't seem as distraught or distant anymore. He's slowly grown back in to his old shell and burst from the new one. I don't mind. I didn't like the new one.

"Uh, yeah." I found my gaze falling to a rock. Suddenly the interest in this rock was so much more than Rylan himself. I began kicking it back and forth between my feet as we spoke. It was something simple to fidget with. A reason not to look him in those damn eyes.

"Public account?" He asked, the questions rambled off of him. Printing from his lips as his teeth continued to type away. I suddenly desired for him to run out of ink.

"Private." I nodded, continuing my game with my rock.

I don't know why I can't look him in the eyes anymore. At one point I loved becoming drunk in his alcohol eyes with the waves of blue and green and stars grazed lightly. I found myself walking aimlessly in this art museum filled with Picasso and Van Gogh artwork hung nicely against the walls. Endless lines of colors and brushes of paint and beauty all filled those two simple eyes. I had felt alone but calm and safe all at once. I would drown myself in those colored eyes but somehow found breathing to be easier than ever. He was a bird flying north, a green leaf in autumn, a colorful spot in a black and white world, he was a contradicting mess that made me lose all sense I had over reality and truth. That was simply his eyes.

But lately things had changed. When I looked in to those eyes and I felt the water drain away and dry sand filled him like an hourglass, waiting for the moment it would fill to the top and then start all over again. I was sinking in to that sand and breathing suddenly became a problem. All the paintings hung nicely against the walls had been painted across, torn, ruined. They had lost the simple beauty that they held together. Along with it he lost himself. The light in his eyes were faded by a crescent moon of a shadow that fell under his eyes. The color only deepening as nights got longer and skin got paler. That was simply his eyes.

"Eric!?" Someone suddenly called my name.

I saw a hand reach down and grab at the rock I had been playing with. Shocked and startled I looked up at the thief. Rylan was looking at me with a stare laced of concern and annoyance. I didn't enjoy negative emotions from him. They always hurt the most.

"What?" I ask, not rudely, innocently. I'm still kinda out of it. Had I zoned out?

"I asked you what your username was, like three times, man." Rylan chuckles but finds it muffled slightly with concern. The beauty of his eyes flash like the blaring lights of a lighthouse searching for me as I drown lonesome but only for a moment and I cherish the split second. I didn't know if I'd ever see it again.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. It's e.allen011207." I answered blankly, not really processing anything. I saw a smile form across Rylan's face. I couldn't help but smile as well.

"Expect a DM from rylan_malcolm01 after school." He winked at me playfully before tossing the rock in the air.

I rushed to catch the rock in the air. The second it touched my hand I heard the familiar ring of the bell and noticed that Rylan was already gone and away. I couldn't help but stand and sigh with a light hint of a smile. I looked down at the rock in my hands. It's warm from his touch and it spreads like an infection through my rough skin. I roll it along my fingers and over my palm, simply staring at it.

I looked out and saw Rylan begin his walk through the doors, not daring a look back. I wondered if he could feel the burn of my eyes against his neck and hair. I looked at the rock and then to the door being filled by other kids. A smile fully pressed against my lips and tightened the skin. I was no sea otter and I had no pouch or desire for this rock in my hand. The meaning of it was almost nothing. Although, I would cherish something else and keep it stored at the front of my mind and never let it go.

For Rylan Malcolm was my special rock.