Valhalla High (A Magnus Chase Fanfic)

Stay At Home Son

August 28

I woke up from a nightmare about a dragon trying to force me to wear all blue. I was sweating as I sat up in my bed. You know how dreams sometimes are scary in the moment and then you think about it and laugh? Yeah, that's what happened. I realized if that situation ever came up, I could just tell the dragon that wearing blue was bad for my asthma.

      I got dressed and started doing my homework over a bowl of cereal. I was supposed to finish Grettir's Saga and at one point, I spilled some of my soggy cereal on Page 156. I blotted the moisture out with a paper towel. "How is it coming along?" my mother asked as she made coffee for herself.

"I have this book to finish, an essay to read, homework for ASL, and three pages of math homework to finish."

"Don't overwork yourself," my mother said, coming over and ruffling my shaggy blond hair. "Remember to take breaks if you need to."

I met her smile. "Don't worry. I will."

I spent the entire morning finishing the book and gathering quotes to use for my essay. I decided to touch on how killing was seen differently in Icelandic culture and the effects of this cultural difference on the portrayal of Grettir.

After lunch, I did some of my chores. I did my laundry, swept my room, and cleaned the bathroom. It was nice to let my mind rest for awhile. I then returned to homework, laying on the couch and typing my essay out on the school-issued chromebook. I wanted to listen to music, but the school's filter blocked virtually everything, so I worked in silence.

I lost track of my time as I worked, caught between long stretches of boredom and brief periods of interest. "Hey Magnus," my mother said. "It's 8:00 PM. Have you eaten yet?"

I looked at the last line I had written: In conclusion, Grettir bad guy of Iclend, sauced. I blinked. "You know," I decided, closing my laptop. "I think I should take a break."

"There are leftovers in the fridge," my mother said.

"Thanks, mother," I said. "You're the best."

I was nearly done with essay now, and my body was stiff from laying in one position for too long. I walked to the kitchen, put some leftovers into the microwave, and stretched my arms over my head while the food reheated.

I let myself unwind by eating my dinner over an episode of Doctor Who. By the time I was finished, I was more tired than the time Thor made us do a mock bootcamp (that was somehow only two days ago). I put away the dishes, brushed my teeth, and went to sleep.

***
August 29

I woke feeling refreshed. I also woke up to a bunch of texts from none other than Alex Fierro. Now, I'm sure you're wondering how I got her number. Well, she took my phone during Ceramics class when I wasn't looking and when I found it again, Alex was my in my contacts.

     I gave Alex a call. "Hello," Alex said. "Who is it? Oh wait, it's you Maggie."

     "Hey Alex," I said, feeling more nervous than the type Surt nominated me to the Homecoming Court as a joke.

"My pronouns are he and his right now," Alex said.

"Can I ask you a question?" I asked. "About your pronouns and being genderfluid?"

There was silence on the line for a moment and I feared I had upset Alex. "Yes," he finally said, "but I'm only speaking for myself — not an entire community."

"That makes sense," I said, thinking of this girl in my fourth grade class who people only talked to when they wanted to know about Type 1 diabetes. "So, why do you switch the pronouns you use instead of using they or them? Wouldn't that be easier?"

"It would be easier for others, but not for me," Alex said. "Some days I feel like a boy. Most days I feel like a girl. I prefer using the pronouns that match my gender identity because they make me feel more comfortable."

I nodded and then remembered we talking over the phone. "That makes sense."

"You really like saying that," Alex replied.

I could imagine him smirking. "What do you want me to say?" I asked. "That's lit? That's valid?"

"Gosh, no!" Alex said. "You sound like a therapist now."

We both laughed. "You texted me about the essay?" I said.

"Mmmm," Alex said. "Indeed I did. Can you look over mine?"

"Sure and can you check mine?" I asked.

"Yeah," he replied. "Hold on, it will take a minute."

Two minutes later, we were skimming each other's papers via Google Docs. "So whatcha think?" Alex asked me after I was done.

"Your thesis is really solid," I replied, "and I like your point about how Grettir never settles down and has a family. He is essentially never 'domesticated' as you put it, but rather 'roughened up by becoming an exile.'"

"Thanks Magnus," Alex replied. "Should I submit it to a journal for publication?"

"Ummm," I said. "You might have to tweak some of the language first. I have never seen an academic papers with as many f bombs."

Alex laughed. "I'm kidding, Maggie. I don't want to be one of those dour academics who spends all of their time writing about something silly like head lice in medieval Europe. I'd rather be working clay with my hands."

I laughed because that was the exact like of academic my uncle Randolph was. "Your essay was pretty great," Alex said, adding in some cuss words to show his appreciation. "But I would advise you to rewrite your thesis. It's a bit of a run-in sentence."

"Thanks," I said, adding a note by my thesis. "How is your weekend going?"

Alex sighed. "My father is ignoring me like usual and my stepmother is being an idiot. It's not my fault my father cheated on her."

I nodded in understanding. We talked for another hour or so before Alex told me he had to work on AP Psychology homework. I looked at the phone after he hung up and smiled.