Be a girl

The weeks went by, and suddenly it was the first day at my new school. Was I nervous? Of course! I’d always been afraid of the unfamiliar, and nothing scared me more than a crowd of unfamiliar people. What’s more, I needed to wear gloves at all times while at school. Which meant six hours a day, five days a week, for the rest of the year. Unless I could figure out some way to remove my curse, I’d have to become accustomed to wearing gloves. Naturally, people were going to ask me why I was wearing gloves, so I had invented a fake explanation. I hoped that people would believe me, because I really didn’t want people to find out the real reason.

The past week had been one of the worst weeks of the holidays. Not the worst, but it had some serious competition. I spent the whole week dreading having to go back to school, having to be surrounded by hundreds of strangers for hours on end. Dad could tell I was stressed about having to attend a new school this year. Perhaps even James knew, though he had his own problems to worry about, so he might not have noticed. I doubted mum noticed my woes; she had a habit of ignoring her children’s struggles after all.

Speaking of James’ troubles, he had it much worse than I. Sure, I was being sent to a school where I knew no one at all, and that was bad on its own. But James had to deal with that, while also attending as ‘Chloe’, dress and all. So much for not forcing him to wear a dress. He’d be wearing one even more often now that it was part of his school uniform. Poor kid.

My parents had decided to send me to the local public school, instead of some fancy private school like last time. Not like it was going to be much of a step down from my old school. At the very least I wouldn’t be surrounded by a bunch of snobby rich kids who thought the universe revolved around them. The big advantage of going local was that my new school was within walking distance, which made travel to and from much easier. Unlike my old school, which was a fifteen minute drive away, this one was only a fifteen minute walk from dad’s house.

Attending a public school also meant I no longer had to wear a tie, which was a big plus in my books. I would no longer need to feel as though I were on the verge of choking to death by a piece of fabric each and every day during the winter school terms. I hated those damn things. Maybe I could get away with never wearing one ever again. Truly horrid things, ties.

The public school uniform was rather drab, though. A light blue polo shirt, black pants (well, shorts for summer), and black shoes. The black shoes could be anything provided they were black; a far cry from my old school, which required us to wear black leather (or fake leather) dress shoes. Since the only black shoes I owned were the ones I wore for school last year, that was what I wore. I was probably going to be wearing the most expensive shoes of all the students because of that. I couldn’t imagine any of the other students at a public school would wear leather shoes which cost over one hundred dollars. Though perhaps it was rude of me to think such thoughts.

Mum insisted she drop me off at school for my first day here, since she wanted to see me off for my first day of my final year. I begrudgingly agreed. She really didn’t need to drop me off, but she wanted to. It did mean that James and I stayed the night at hers on Sunday, which was rather unusual. Mum gave me a kiss on the forehead as she bid me farewell for the day, making me rather uncomfortable, though I did my best not to show it. I thanked her for the well wishes – not that I felt she deserved it – and exited the car, waving her goodbye as she drove off.

I stood there, in front of the property that would be home to my final year of high school. The buildings, far more basic than those at my previous school, loomed before me menacingly. I swallowed nervously. They shouldn’t be so scary. I mean, they looked as if they were built in the seventies; a sharp contrast from the much more modern and expensive architecture of my old school.

I inhaled deeply, then took my first steps toward what I assumed was the main facility where classes were held. I figured I should stop by the front office to learn where my homeroom was, so I didn’t turn up late. They would probably hold an assembly for new students, but I wasn’t interested in attending, nor did I suspect that it was meant for year 12 students.

After learning the location of my new homeroom, I stepped out into the courtyard. Hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of teenagers mingled amongst each other, all still carrying their school bags since no one had been assigned a locker yet. I found a spot far away from everyone else so that I didn’t get too overwhelmed, and hoped no one would take notice of me.

Eventually, the school bell rang, and I nervously made my way over to my new homeroom. Surprisingly, I was the first one to arrive, so I picked a seat far away from the board, hoping to blend into the background. Within minutes the room had become packed, and the room was abuzz with chatter. Thankfully, no one noticed me tucked away in the back corner of the room.

Soon enough, a balding man with a thin but well kempt beard, whom I assumed to be the teacher, addressed the class, “Alright everyone, quiet down. We have a lot to cover today, so I’ll try to be quick. For those that don’t know me, I’m Mr. Manning.” He uncapped a marker and wrote his name on the board in quite large letters before continuing, “To start, I’d like to introduce a new student to this school. Benjamin Ashford, are you here?”

Did we really have to start with this? Did I really need to be introduced? I wanted nothing more than to curl up in the corner and become invisible so that no one paid me any mind. I knew there would be no getting out of this, so I relented, meekly holding my hand up. I felt small. Well, smaller than usual. As much as I didn’t want to be singled out like this, part of me suspected something like this would happen.

“Would you mind coming up to the front and telling everyone a little bit about yourself?” Mr. Manning asked.

Great, the worst possible thing he could have asked of me. I swallowed what little saliva was in my mouth and slowly made my way to the front of the classroom. I could feel the curious stares of all the other students digging into me, and I shuddered a little over receiving so much attention.

Once at the front of the room, I took in all the faces currently staring at me, waiting for me to speak. I gulped and took in a deep breath to steel myself. Why weren’t there any other new students in this homeroom? How was I the only one?

“Umm, I’m Ben. I umm, like physics, and umm, video games,” I spoke softly, trying not to be heard. Everyone seemed able to hear me though. Either that, or they didn’t care for what I had to say, as no one told me to speak up.

“Does anyone have any questions for Ben?” Mr. Manning asked the class.

A boy near the back of the class stuck his hand up, but he didn’t wait for the teacher’s approval to begin speaking. “What’s with the gloves?”

Well, there it was. The question I was waiting on. Good thing I prepared earlier. “I umm, have a skin condition,” I replied.

“What kind of skin condition?”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to talk about it.” And that was all that needed to be said. Quite frankly, it was no one else’s business.

“Any other questions?” the teacher asked. The class remained silent for a while, with no hands being raised. Mr. Manning addressed me directly next, “Ok then. Ben, do you know your way around the school, or will you need someone to show you around?”

“I will need a tour of the school.”

Almost instantly, a boy stuck his hand up excitedly, absolutely desperate to get the teacher’s attention. I say boy, but he certainly looked more like a man. His thick brown hair was tied up in a man bun, and a dense beard covered the entire lower portion of his face. Both of these features surprised me.

At my old school, the uniform code was very strict, and not just in what we were forced to wear. Our hair needed to be tidy and well-groomed, no longer than the bottom of our ears. Any longer and we were required to get a haircut. Everyone also needed to be clean shaven. If our stubble became too long, we would be handed a cheap razor and told to shave it right then and there. Not that I ever let my facial hair reach that point. I couldn’t stand it and shaved it every day. Of course, I also hated the act of shaving, but it was either that or exist in agony. The choice was obvious.

The teacher sighed. “Alright, Jaxon, you can show Ben around the school. I’ll hand out everyone’s timetables for the year first, then assign lockers. After that you can show Ben where all his classes will be located.”

The boy, Jaxon, made an excited noise and pumped his fist. What an excitable person. Far too excitable for my liking. At the very least, he was kind enough to help me, though I worried that he may prove too much for me to handle, even for the short time he’d be showing me around the school. I sat back down in my seat then waited for the teacher to finish handing out our timetables and go through the rest of the required admin work.

Once he was done, everyone stood up to follow him toward our new lockers. I barely even had a chance to get out of my chair before Jaxon had rushed over to me, with a smile from ear to ear plastered on his face. He completely dwarfed me. He must have been nearly half a metre taller than me. Granted, I was short, but he was by far the tallest person I’d ever met, surely standing at over two metres tall. The top of my head barely reached his chest. He was lean but not overly so, and possibly hiding some muscle under his shirt.

“Hey there, short stuff,” he beamed, sticking out his hand for me to shake. Even that was huge. When I took it, my own hand was completely enveloped in his, and he shook so vigorously that I felt like he was going to rip my entire arm off. A pang of anxiety hit me as I feared he might be transformed despite my gloves, but nothing appeared to happen to him, and the fear was quickly replaced with relief. Thank goodness the gloves worked.

“H-hi,” I mumbled.

“It’s nice to meet ya, Ben! The name’s Jaxon Vance, at your service.” He gave an extremely overexaggerated bow, with a pompous hand flourish and all, like he was some kind of butler for a nobleman. “Starting at a new school must be scary,” he continued, standing back upright, “especially when you’re alone. But not to worry, stick with me and you’ll feel at home in no time!”

With that, we met up with the rest of the class at our new lockers. Funnily enough, I ended up getting assigned the locker below his. I was glad the teacher was sensible enough to assign me a bottom locker as I wouldn’t have a chance of reaching the top shelf of a top locker. Jaxon on the other hand, had absolutely no trouble. He likely preferred having the top locker as well.

“Alright, I’ll need to see your timetable so I can show where your classes are. I won’t be of much Benny-fit otherwise!” Jaxon said, with a chuckle.

I blinked. Did he… did he just make a pun with my name? I’ll ignore that.

I handed him my timetable, and he quickly scanned over it. “Oh wow, a smart cookie huh? Specialist Maths, Maths Methods, Physics, and Chemistry. That’s quite the choice of subjects.”

“It’s not really that hard.”

“I’m sure for someone like you they aren’t, but I personally find maths to be a bit triggy sometimes,” Jaxon laughed. I groaned at the terrible pun, but that only made him laugh even more.  “It seems we’re in the same Maths Methods class as well, so that’s cool. I guess I’ll take you there first. Follow me, lil’ Benny!” He pointed forward in a grand gesture, making an incredibly large step in that direction.

“Please don’t call me that,” I mumbled, remembering all the times Jesse and his gang had called me that, and all the awful things they had done to me. Sure, their time tormenting me was over, but I still didn’t want to be reminded of it.

He paused, turning to me with concern on his face. “Oh, sorry. Bad history with that nickname?”

I nodded. We stood there awkwardly for a moment before Jaxon continued. Scratching nervously at the back of his head, he said, “Alright, well, let’s get going then.”

With that he took off down the hall, and I followed his lead. He explained how all the classrooms were numbered, so that I could find any room whenever I needed. It was entirely systematic, which made it simple for me to learn. Really, I could find all my classrooms with that information alone and didn’t require any further help, but I couldn’t just tell Jaxon he was no longer needed. He seemed like the kind of guy who would be supremely disappointed if I told him I no longer required his assistance.

There was one question lingering at the back of my mind. “Why did you volunteer to help me?” I asked him. I expected the teacher would force one of the other students to escort me around the school, but the giant beside me had volunteered enthusiastically, and I couldn’t quite wrap my head around it.

“I just really like helping people!” he exclaimed. “Especially those like yourself. If I was a knight of the round table, well, I’d be the one keeping the place nice and clean and tidy!”

Ok. Weird reference, not sure what that was about… Wait a minute… “Was. Was that a pun?”

“Clever girl,” he chuckled.

I felt my breath catch in my throat, my heartbeat quicken, and my stomach clench. There was no way this guy I just met knew I wanted to be a girl, right? I had to make sure he didn’t find out, else he’d think I was a freak, and I couldn’t have that.

“What!? I’m not a girl!” I exclaimed, waving my hands wildly in denial. “What would make you think that?”

He was rather taken aback by my extreme reaction, staring at me oddly. “Um, sorry? It was a Jurassic Park reference. Have you not seen it?”

“Oh.” I breathed a sigh of relief. I had nothing to worry about. Of course he didn’t know about that. That would be patently absurd. “I’ve seen a bit of it, but only when I was young. I got too scared and couldn’t keep watching.”

“Ah yeah, fair.”

We stopped by the first classroom on our tour. It wasn’t anything special, and we moved onto the next closest room almost immediately, even though I could have easily worked out its location on my own.

“You know, Ben, people won’t care if your hands look scarred or whatnot because of your skin condition. You don’t have to wear gloves if that’s what you’re worried about.” Jaxon said.

I shook my head. “That’s not it. My condition is, um, contagious. It’s better for everyone this way. Trust me.”

He looked at me curiously, though he didn’t question my logic. I could tell he wasn’t buying my explanation, but he didn’t push further. I couldn’t blame him either, it was a pretty lame reason, but I wasn’t going to tell him the truth. The fewer people who knew the truth, the better, as far as I was concerned.

We arrived at the next classroom, I memorised the location, and we moved on once again.

“So, I’ve been wondering, why’d you transfer schools?” Jaxon asked.

Did I want to answer this? I wouldn’t have to reveal my secret, but I knew that I wasn’t exactly the kind of person who would be asked to leave a school under normal circumstances.

My slight hesitation in answering his question allowed Jaxon to insert another question before I was able to respond. “Let me guess,” he said, placing his hand on his chin pensively. Or what I assumed was his chin since I couldn’t actually see it through the beard. “Your parents transferred you because you had to deal with asshole bullies.”

I nodded. It was technically true in a way. If Jesse and his goons hadn’t bullied me, I would never have transformed Jesse, and both he and I would still be attending that god forsaken establishment. Or maybe I would have just accidentally transformed some other guy and still been asked to leave. Given how much I tried to keep to myself, it seemed unlikely to me that I would touch someone with either of my hands accidentally. In all honesty, it was likely I’d have ended up transforming dad no matter what, figured out the mechanism, and then worn gloves to school to avoid transforming anyone else.

Jaxon placed his hand on my shoulder. “I’m really sorry that happened to you. I’ll do my best to make sure that doesn’t happen to you here. No one deserves to be harassed.”

I didn’t know whether to feel comforted by his gesture or not. On the one hand, if he was being genuine, then it would be nice to have a big guy like him as an ally. On the other hand, I had no way of knowing whether he was genuine. I’d known him for less than an hour; I had no idea what he was like. For all I knew he was playing me.

I wanted to trust him though. Perhaps it was irrational to trust a complete stranger, especially given my history with other people my age. I walked into this school thinking that it would be similar to my last few years. I would have no friends, and probably get bullied as well. For the first time, I had an inkling of hope that that wouldn’t be the case. I desperately needed a friend.