Chapter 5: Part 5 — Tuesday Evening

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Part 5: Tuesday Evening

I spent the rest of the day at school terrified that Bobby Brandon and his gang of alpha males would find me. Would corner me somewhere and do something horrible to me. Tell everyone what they suspected about me. Or worse! Strip me naked and parade me around the school for all to see.

It was a stupid fear, of course. But that’s what fear is. Nine times out of ten, your fears never come true — 99 times out of 100, even. But every so often there’s that one chance. And all it takes is one and the I’m gonna be moving schools again.

Bobby and his imagined friends never came. But I wished they had. I don’t know what it’s like for other people, but for me fear of being outed is like seeing a spider scurry under your bed. You know it’s there. You know there’s nothing you can do about it. And you know it could come out at any time. It’s a paralyzing kind of fear. The kind that makes you turn down party invitations and delete DMs or even whole social accounts. He’d have his day, Bobby Brandon. I was sure of it. But it wasn’t today.

By the time I got home, I was thoroughly miserable. I’d been carrying around another rock. Ever since I saw Jessie reach up to get that book out of her locker. She just reached up and I watched as the extension of her body pulled her shirt out of her skirt. I needed to talk to someone. Someone who’s been through things. Someone wise and womanly. But I’d have to settle for my older sister, Anna.

I knocked on her door. She’d got her music up. Alan Walker or something. I’m not really into music, I don’t know. There was no response. I knocked louder.

“Yes?! What is it?!” she asked, pulling the door open and standing there with an exasperated expression on her face.

“I need to talk to you, sis,” I said in a downcast manner. She could see it in my face. The rock I was carrying. She knew something was wrong.

“Come in,” she said, moving the door open slightly wider.

We sat on the edge of her bed. She sat cross-legged in her baggy jeans; I sat with my knees together not quite meeting her gaze.

“What’s up, Ella?” she asked.

I didn’t know how to begin. I thought it might be best if I just dived into it.

“You remember your friend Sophie?” I asked.

Anna’s face soured.

“Yeah,” she relied, eventually. Her expression wanted to say more, but she bit her tongue.

“And you remember how she came to you when she was, y’know, hurting herself?” I said the last part in a whisper, like it was some kind of secret. It really wasn’t. Sophie had been in and out of hospital a bunch of times. Everyone knew she was a troubled child. That’s what they called her, anyway.

“Ella,” Anna’s tone grew stern, “are you hurting yourself?!”

She made a show to grab for my arms (Sophie had focused on the backs of her arms and her thighs).

“No!” I replied. “It’s nothing like that.”

I pushed the arms of my blazer up as high as I could to prove to her that I wasn’t hurting myself. She visibly relaxed.

“Well, what is it then?” she asked.

“I think one of my friends might be doing it to themselves,” I replied, then looked away, ashamed, as if I had betrayed some secret.

“What is it?” Anna asked. Then corrected herself, “Who is it? Someone at your new school?”

I nodded feebly.

“Tell me what you saw, El,” Anna commanded.

I told her what had happened. What I had seen when Jessie reached up towards the top shelf of her locker; when her shirt rode up and exposed her tummy.

Lines.

Lines along the length of her hips. Thin and white and crooked.

Lines and bruises.

“Bruises?” Anna asked.

“Yeah,” I replied. “They looked like bruises anyway. All brown and yellow.”

“Have you told anyone about this?” Anna asked.

“Just you,” I replied, truthfully. “Do you think I should tell mom? Or Mr Finlay in homeroom?”

“God no!” Anna exclaimed. “You should tell no one,” she added a moment later. “Not yet, anyway.”

That wasn’t what I expected her to say.

“Look,” she said, turning to face me squarely. “If your friend is doing this to herself, then the last thing she’s going to want is everyone knowing about it. Telling the grown ups won’t stop her doing it. It might even make it worse. It sure did with Sophie,” she added.

“You need to find out more about what she’s going through,” my sister advised. “What’s her home life like? Is she under a lot of pressure? Grades? Looks? Soccer?”

“Well, there are state tryouts this week,” I replied. “She might be stressing about that.”

“Look,” Anna went on, “I’m not saying that you should do nothing. But the truth is, you might be able to do more as her friend than any adult can if they get involved. It might get to the stage where you need to get the grown ups involved. But find out a little more about what you’re dealing with first.”

It was good advice.

“Thanks, Anna,” I said, and I threw my arms around her.

I trembled a little in her embrace. I thought about telling her all about Bobby Brandon and the way he’d looked at me. That jocular I-guessed-your-secret expression in his eyes. But I decided against it. My rocks were mine to carry. I couldn’t keep running to my sister every time I was worried about some stupid boy outing me at school.

“Was there anything else bothering you?” Anna asked. Maybe she could feel the slightly trembling in my bones.

“No,” I lied. “That was it.”

“It’s enough,” she said, smiling. “You know you can come to me with this stuff, El, right!” she added.

“I know,” I replied, forcing a smile onto my face. Then added, “Thanks.”

I left her in her room and went to shower and change and shave my legs. I swear it feels like the blockers wear off faster and faster after each shot. It doesn’t work like that, I know. But I never feel less feminine than in the days before I get my monthly shot. That day was coming this weekend. If I could just get through the rest of the week first without falling out with Jessie (or spilling her secrets) or running into Bobby (and getting outed), I was pretty sure I’d be fine. After all, it’s only school; what else could possibly go wrong?

Submitted: January 01, 2025

Young Adult teen drama ya lgbtq trans