binded

zane ; talk me down

For some odd reason, Grace hasn't sent me a message since yesterday. She seems to have disappeared off the face of the Earth and I am extremely worried.

My fears dissolve when she comes to psychology and begs that I come off campus with her during lunch. You're gonna get some Zane, but that means revealing yourself. Maybe just make her feel good...that could work. Yeah. Do that.

When we get to her car, I remember to pull out my student ID (the dumb enforced rules at our school) and stay quiet while she pulls out of her complex parking spot. When we drive past the security guard, I flash my ID and we are given the okay to leave. I expect Grace to drive to either of our houses, but she goes in the direction of the hospital that I picked her up at not too long ago.

"Is everything okay Gracie?" I ask while noticing how intensely focused her chocolate eyes are on where she is going, "Where are we going?"

"I'm introducing you to someone very important to me." she simply says, turning into the parking structure and finding the closest spot that she could.

Once Gracelyn parks her car, she takes the keys out of the ignition and exhales deeply. I can tell that she has not been able to rationalize her thoughts for a while and this the best thing that she has.

"We're pulling the plug today...and I want you to meet him before he is gone." she finally says while unbuckling her seatbelt, "He always wanted to meet a boyfriend before the relationship went anywhere."

Despite being in a coma, meeting Grace's father is still intimidating. I've never met a girlfriend's parents and the thought of it still scares the hell out of me. I turn to look at her and hesitantly nod.

"Okay..." I tell her, unbuckling my own seat belt, "I'd like to meet him..."

When we enter the hospital and go to the front desk, my heart races when we are asked who we are visiting. Grace however has composed herself fully.

"We're here to see Edward Russell, he is in the ICU." she says, "One pass for Gracelyn Russell and one for Zane Lawrence."

We are both given visitor passes and sign our names on the sticker, Grace's signature shakier than it normally is and she requires my help when putting the sticker on her t-shirt. She has every inch of this hospital memorized, from the winded hallways to each illuminated plastic button in the elevator.

As her finger lands on the scratched up 7, she presses her back to the elevator wall while we go up. I've taken note that whenever Grace is at a loss for words, she stays quiet. She lets the words spin in circles within her mind until they connect like pieces of shattered glass.

However, the words have fallen to the floor and she is suddenly picking up the glass from the floor in an attempt to form any. By the 5th floor, nothing has come out of every attempt. When the tiny ding goes off, she finally asks if I am nervous.

I mean sure, I've never seen a comatose body before but I don't think there is much about it that could leave me frightened. Maybe it will be like someone sleeping, or it could be the complete opposite.

When I enter the room, her father is laying in a bed...white sheets, white hospital gown and walls as blue as the sky. It it as if he is already gone. His bed is perfectly centered with a heart monitor right beside him. The heart beat is steady.

There is a feeding tube in his mouth and one in his nose. This is the only reason he is alive. This man is hanging on by a thread...no wonder he is dying today.

Grace begins to cry, her eyes becoming a faucet that has just been turned on. First dripping...then pouring. Her sadness is evident and I know that all I can do is comfort her.

"Hey daddy...it's Gracie." she whispers as she leaves me in the doorway to sit in a cushioned chair beside his bed, "I have someone that I'd like you to meet. This is Zane, he is my boyfriend."

She turns around and gestures for me to come stand beside her. Something about how she can speak to him with such ease despite earning no reply is astounding to me.

Maybe if she can, so can I.

"Hi Mr. Russell," I say while walking towards her,"It it's great to meet you. I am sorry that this will be the only time we get to see each other."

Grace turns to face me and I swear that her tears are becoming that of joy as opposed to grief. Her hand reaches for mine and her smile warms my heart. it feels like we're the only two in the room.

"I have wanted to introduce you to Zane for a while...he is very kind and treats me the way you have always wanted a boy to treat me." she whispers.

I then allow my mind to wander, mainly to how we both have severe daddy issues. Hers is laying on a hospital bed and having his life ended today while my biological father is dead to me. To him, my name is Trinity and I am his perfect little girl who choses to wear boy's clothing. I am a boy damnit! But now is not the time to get hung up on my dad, I have to be here for my girl.

"Tell him about yourself." Grace insists while shoving my arm.

Well, there isn't much that is interesting about me except that I am a trans guy who has been able to pass for five weeks at a brand new school (chest binder, voice cracks and all). I've called myself a pussy more than once because I am too afraid to tell Grace the damn truth! It's just three words. I am trans. Why can't I say that?

"I was born in Vernon Hills...a suburb city by Chicago on June 5th of 2001." I start, "I have an 8 year old brother named Bradon, a mother and a stepfather. My biological father is no longer in my life, so I hope that I can help Grace with your loss."

Grace seems surprised by my confession since I haven't told her much about my biological father. I can't tell her much else, but at least this is a start.

"I moved to Los Angeles last month and met your daughter in an AP Psychology class. Since then, I can tell that I have grown on her," I tease, hearing Grace softly giggle, "But besides that, she is a great girl and I promise to take care of her in your absence."

Grace's emotions are confused. Between her father's upcoming death and to the way I am speaking about her, she can't tell whether to be in grief or in love.

Before we leave, we say our last goodbyes and I promise something to her father once she has left the room.

I tell him that one day I will tell her the truth of my identity.