Chapter 1: Part 1 — Monday

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Part 1: Monday

Secrets are like rocks in your backpack. Their weight deforms you, bends you low, drags you down. You have to change the way you walk when you carry them. And you carry enough of them around with you: eventually they’ll break you. My name is Ella Stevenson and I have a pretty big bag of secrets on my back.

But it all started with one secret. One little lie on a piece of paper. Only it wasn’t a lie. The box was asking about me — the real me — my identity. So I ticked it. That was three schools ago.

The school didn’t see the real me. When they found out. They saw what everyone sees. What I even see sometimes. When I’m alone with only the lying mirror for company. I bulge and bulk in all the wrong places.

But let me tell you about me — the me-I-see. I’m 14 years old (I turn 15 in less than a week, so that’s terrifying). I’m 5’3” with long black hair (I’ve been growing it out for, like, two years now). I’m slim. Like, I know it shouldn’t matter, but it kind of does to everyone. And I don’t think I could go through what I’m going through if I had to go through fat-shaming as well. If anything, I get teased for being too flat-chested. Just another rock for my collection, I guess.

I like soccer. I’m pretty good. I usually make the team at whatever school I end up in. My favorite subjects are Math and Science (I want to be a doctor when I grow up — or maybe a writer — I haven’t decided yet). My grampa says that if I want to be a writer, I have to get some “real world experience.” Trust me gramps, I’m racking up that faster than you can count.

My first experience of my new school (the third one this year) was actually pretty nice. My mom told my home room teacher that I like to play soccer, so he sat me next to this girl called Jessie. She’s blonde and a little taller than me. She’s kind of got a sportswoman’s physique. Plus the curves that I really wish I could grow. But that’s okay. I’m not gonna get all jelly on my first day. Jessie plays soccer too. And she’s in most of my classes, so Mr Finlay figured she could show me around.

“So, you’re the new girl?” Jessie opened, slightly dramatically.

I smiled back.

“You know you’re sitting in the cursed chair!” she added. I wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

“Every student who’s ever sat in that chair has either been kicked out, left or —” she looked around the room for effect, “-– died!”

“R-really?” I asked. What kind of school was this? I was expecting the horror to come from gym class and games, not home room.

“No, not really,” she replied, lightening. She shot a smile at me. “Hi, I’m Jessie. Jessie Marina!”

Jessie stuck out a hand for me to shake. I took it.

“So, this isn’t the cursed chair, then?” I said, smiling.

“Nah,” she replied. “It’s just something we say to mess with new kids.” Then she giggled in an inviting way. I giggled back with her. Mr Finlay cleared something in his throat and we all settled into silence.

Jessie showed me around the school. It was pretty big and the uniform was pretty ugly to match (purple and black). But there were a couple of options and I found could wear the pleated skirts (the kind I liked). Most girls wore the pin-stripes, but I didn’t like those.

At the end of the day, we all went to get changed for soccer practice. I was a little nervous at first, but the changerooms were all private stalls, instead of pegs and benches and everything out in the open. I have a lot of body issues. It’s another rock I have to carry.

Soccer practice was great. The school has proper grass pitches, so we were sliding and tackling and barging into each other without worrying about burns from plastic turf. Jessie is really good. She’s a striker, so she scored most of our goals.

But I got to pass the ball to her a bunch of times and she high-fived and hugged me when she scored. I think we really get on. Of course, I thought that about Leierna at my last school. We used to get on too. Until she found my bag. And my rocks. And paraded them around for everyone to see.

After soccer, my mom picked me up.

“So,” she opened, barely able to contain her curiosity. “How did it go then?”

“Yeah,” I replied, smiling. “I think it went pretty well. I made a friend–”

“--That Jessie girl from homeroom?” Mom asked.

I nodded.

Something twinged in me when my mom said Jessie’s name. Like she was my friend and I didn’t want to share her with anybody. Wait, was that it? Or was it something else? I had felt kind of funny when she hugged me after scoring that goal.

“I think things are gonna be different here,” I said, smiling. “No Leierna Scotts for a start.”

My mother shuddered at the mention of her name.

“Now you listen, Ella,” she said, growing serious all of a sudden. “If anyone speaks to you the way that girl spoke to you, or does any of the things that she–”

“—Mom!” I cried, interrupting her.

I didn’t want to relive it. What Leierna and her friends had done to me was the biggest and heaviest rock in my bag since moving here. Well, after the really big one, of course. Moving schools didn’t make my bag of secrets any lighter. In fact, it made it kind of heavier. But at least it put all the rocks back in the bag again, instead of splayed out naked for everyone to see.

“I hope things will be better here for you, Ella,” Mom said, and flashed me a warm, caring smile.

“I know they will,” I replied and did my best to return her smile. It had been a good day, as first days go and I was feeling happy with the choices I’d made.

Then we got home.

I felt a sharp barb rise in my throat as soon as I saw grampa and grandma’s car in the driveway. My mom hadn’t told me they were coming. I think she wanted me to enjoy the day for as long as I could. She’s great like that, my mom. Unlike her mom!

“Hiya Errol!” my grandma said as soon as I got through the door.

“He doesn’t want to be called that anymore, Caroline,” my grampa chastised, seeing my pleated-skirt uniform.

Grandma looked at my mom, “He’s still going through that phase then?”

I burst into tears and ran straight to my room. In my head I took each rock — each secret -– out of my backpack and examined it, leaving the biggest one for last. But no matter how I turned it over in my hands, I couldn’t change its shape or make it any less heavy.

What no one at my new school knows yet is that I was born as Errol Jacob Stevenson. But that’s not my name and it’s not who I am. My name is Ella Stevenson. I have a pretty big bag of secrets on my back. And it’s slowly crushing me to death.

Submitted: January 01, 2025

Young Adult teen drama ya lgbtq trans