Chapter 13 - In fact, if I were to actually name it I would have named it Kitten.

Taylor

The first thing I noticed when I stepped into the main hallway of Dayton Academy that Thursday morning was that Abby was waiting silently at her locker for me. She was sighing every now and then, with one foot popped up against the locker. She seemed preoccupied with her thoughts, completely oblivious to the goings-on around her.

When she noticed me approaching, she slid her foot off the locker and hung her head slightly. With my hands planted firmly on my hips, I raised my eyebrow at her.

“Here to tell me how I’ve once again insulted/irritated/infuriated you with my actions/mere presence/breathing?” I questioned, fiddling with the combination lock. I heard her sigh and felt somewhat satisfied at the fact that I’d made her feel slight agitation.

“Taylor, I’m sorry about yesterday,” she began, very slowly. One thing I’ve noticed about Abby was that heartfelt apologies needed to be practically dragged out of her with a forklift. “It was... wrong of me to leave you here with no way to get home, even though I used to walk to school and back everyday but that’s besides the point...” She cleared her throat roughly. “I’m sorry for getting mad for no reason.”

“Fine,” I replied, fishing through her locker for the books I needed. “Did you finish your chem. assignment on stoichiometry?”

She nodded and sifted through a folder she was holding. “Here. You might want to double-check the last one though. I don’t think my answer makes sense.”

“Sure, here’s my government assignment. You don’t need to do anything to it.” I said, handing her a small stack of homework. “It was easy.”

“Everything is easy for you.”

She was trying to get back on my good side. Now, I’m no stranger to people kissing my ass to get in my good graces. I can smell a brown-noser from miles away. I can pick out a mooch at a mere glance. Oh, the art of sucking up was not lost on my poor, feeble mind. Oh no, not me. I eat that crap for dinner.

“Abby, I need to go to class,” I said, not wanting to be too forgiving. If I caved in and forgave her immediately after one stupid apology she would never learn how to treat people properly. You’d think with such a sweet, kindhearted mother she would have learned some manners.

“Taylor, you can’t possibly still be mad at me!” Abby whined, cocking her head to the side. “I apologized and everything!”

I gave her a calm look. “Saying “I’m sorry” isn’t always going to work. I’m sick and tired of your constant dramatics where you fly off the handle all the time! You can’t keep treating people like they’re beneath you and expect them to forgive you whenever you want them to.” I shut her locker and smiled stiffly. “Frankly, I don’t want to be around YOU today. I don’t want to see you, talk to you, or even acknowledge your existence.”

Abby just glared at me.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” I whispered, heading off towards my first class. Strange as it sounds, just walking away from her gave me an undeniable feeling of pleasure. Maybe it shouldn’t have, but taking her down a peg or two just made me puff my chest out. It wasn’t like I hated her or anything, I was just a little annoyed with her. I’ve realized that she’s not a bad person deep down, but you have to take Abby with a grain of salt. A little Abby goes a long way.

And I’ve realized that she’s mildly insane. And a little bit dramatic. Whiney too. And she thinks her problems are the end all, be all. The same goes for her opinion. And she’s a hair self-centered. She can be catty and immature as well. And every now and then she talks down to you in that annoyingly patronizing voice too.

But other than that she’s not that bad.

On occasion I find myself actually liking her. Those are rare, frightening times, often fleeting, but it happens. I can’t help it if I’m overly forgiving and loving by nature.

***

I was definitely surprised to see Abby flop down at my table in the beginning of lunch. I was the first one of the group to arrive, but I was startled by her appearance nonetheless. Not only was I surprised that she would actually have the guts to approach me so soon but I was rather shocked to see that she wasn’t afraid of sitting at the popular table when she wasn’t “popular.”

“Are you, like, lost?” I teased, doing my best valley girl impression.

She frowned. “You need to stop being mad at me. I can’t help it if I am a pms-ing, crazy flesh-bag of hormones! Having you be mad at me is like having the chicken pox. It’s red and irritating and no matter how much calamine lotion I put on it still itches!”

I innocently sipped at my juice box. “So, what are you saying exactly?”

She let out a little whine. “I’m saying that if you don’t stop being mad at me I’ll die! I really will! Taylor, for the love of Pete please forgive me!”

I shrugged. “Fine. I forgive you. You may leave now.”

She sighed heavily and stood from the table. It was then that Jake Wolf and Tony Illioni happened to walk by and happened to run into her. Tony, grinning wickedly at his accomplice, shoved Abby out of the way. Abby stumbled back and I instinctively rose to my feet.

“Hey, it’s the MmmBop kid!” Jake sneered as he laughed at Abby’s stumble.

“Look, he’s like one of them bowling pins. Hit ‘em once and they go tumblin’ down,” Tony exclaimed, as Jake grabbed his arm dramatically.

“Careful, Tony, he’s a fag remember? He just might like it.”

“Hey, fuck you, asshole!” I shouted, walking right up into his face. Jake and Tony burst out laughing like murderous hyenas. They peered down at me as if I was nothing but an insignificant child.

“Look, he’s got a girl fighting his battles for him,” Jake muttered, glaring at Abby. Abby’s eyes were wide as saucers and I felt terribly for her. Being a girl, she was probably shocked at the blatant act of physicality.

“He’s a fucking queer, Jake, what did you expect?” Tony said, through gritted teeth. He grabbed Abby’s suit coat and threw her backwards forcefully. She gasped and I could only imagine how fast her heart was pounding in her chest.

“Hey, homo! Stop staring! We’re not interested! Man, let’s go! He’s staring to creep me out. I think he’s trying to undress me with his eyes.” Jake jeered, as he and Tony walked away towards their own lunch table of mindless jocks. They were laughing and cheering on their moronic friends’ degrading new game of tormenting the “gay” kid. Once they left, my attention immediately turned to Abby.

Abby was watching her attackers walk away in awe-filled silence. She was panting and had at some point broken out in a cold sweat. She felt as though time had stopped and eyes from everywhere were directed at her as she stood in the lunchroom. People were gossiping and glaring, and she was helpless to fix anything.

Brooke and Sandra had appeared at sometime during the fight. They saw Abby’s expression and immediately came closer to help. Abby smiled, embarrassed, and excused herself from our presence.

Now, seeing myself getting shoved around and being called a homosexual, something I’ve fought against my entire life, was definitely taking its toll on me. Being called “fag,” “homo,” “gay,” “queer…” It was too much for me. However, my maternal instincts were on overload and I had to push my own insecurities aside for the moment. All I cared about was making sure Abby was okay.

I rushed out of the cafeteria and tried to listen to the running footsteps ahead of me. I followed her into the janitor’s closet and closed the door behind me. I found myself in an uncomfortably smelly, small room where Abby was giving me a perplexed look. I ignored my slight claustrophobia and sat down beside her. My heart broke as I saw her try to wipe the tears frantically off her cheeks. She refused to make eye contact and to be perfectly honest, I didn’t really understand why she was so miserable because of my presence.

“Are you crying?” I asked, softly. Okay, I’ll admit that was a pretty pointless question.

“Taylor, what are you doing here?” She demanded, glaring at me. I tried to put my hand on her shoulder but she threw it off her.

“Look, I know you’re upset...”

“Taylor, I don’t understand you,” she began, shaking her head. “One minute you dismiss me from your table and the next you’re running after me to consol me. And to be frank, I don’t know why you’d want to consol me anyway. If I were you I’d hate me.”

“I don’t hate you. I forgive you.”

“Yeah, that’s another thing I don’t understand.”

“What? Come on, Abby, you shouldn’t be in here. All the cleaning fumes will go to your head.” Clearly by the look of disdain she was giving me, Abby was not in the mood for jokes.

She sighed and wiped away some more fresh tears. “Why don’t you hate me? I mean, I’ve practically ruined your life. In fact, I think this is exactly where I deserve to be. I hope the fumes kill me.”

And here comes the drama.

“Don’t you think I kind of deserve this, Taylor?” She continued, sniffing loudly. “Don’t you think I deserve the name-calling, and the embarrassment, and humiliation?” She grew very serious. “And I was humiliated. No one has ever hit me in my entire life and I didn’t even fight back! People were staring at me, the gay kid, like I had a disease that they could catch! I was so caught up in the horror of everyone glaring at me that I completely forgot how to move.”

“I’m sorry,” I replied, wanting to cry right along with her. I knew all too well that feeling. I knew all too well what it was like to be gawked at and followed to the point where I didn’t even want to leave my house.

She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I did this to myself. Actually, I did this to you. Someday, I’m going to be able to escape your body and then you’ll be stuck with all this taunting and teasing.” She reached for an unopened package of toilet paper and used some as a makeshift tissue. “People have been staring at me nonstop since I said you were gay. And you can’t tell me it doesn’t bother you. Don’t lie and say that it doesn’t hurt you and make your skin crawl.”

I lowered my head. “It doesn’t matter what the idiots at this school think of me as.”

She snorted. “Please. You cannot honestly tell me that none of this bothers you.”

“Okay, I’d be lying if I told you I didn’t,” I replied, slowly. “But I can get over it eventually. And pretty soon, it’ll be old news and most people will forget about it. Besides...” I trailed off, grinning from ear to ear. “I’ve already convinced Brooke that I’m not gay so it’s not as bad as it seems.”

Abby rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to have to sleep with her on Saturday to prove your heterosexuality, am I?”

I chuckled softly. “No, I wouldn’t let you! She’s mine!”

“Fine, just as long as I get your fine older brother who always smells so good!”

“Oh, great! Just never tell him that because he seriously douses himself with cologne!” I exclaimed, making a face. “Zac and I would always have to crack a window whenever Ike had to get ready for a date!” Abby and I smiled at each other for a moment before she peered at her snotty toilet paper.

“I’ll make this up to you, Taylor. I promise I will.”

I put my arm around her and she rested her head on my shoulder. “You better. And it better include bikinis, cool whip, and a variety of sexual favors...”

***

“I’m home!” I exclaimed, opening the front door of Abby’s house. Just like I had assumed, no one was home tonight. Abby’s mom had mentioned something about grocery shopping on Thursdays so I took full advantage of her absence.

You see, last night during our bonding session, I lied to Abby’s mother. It wasn’t a horrible, destructive kind of lie... it was more like a harmless little white lie. The kind of lie that shouldn’t even really be classified as a lie because it’s so inoffensive. In fact, if I were to actually name it I would have named it Kitten.

So, here’s the truth about Kitten: I told Abby’s mom that I got a job. See, that wasn’t so bad. I had to have some sort of explanation for always coming home late and always having money in my pocket so I simply told her that I’d taken some initiative and gotten a job. Abby’s mother had been disapproving at first, but soon I had her convinced that I could still manage school and a social life if I had a part-time job.

Detention had gone relatively well this afternoon. We managed to decorate two and a half more halls of the downstairs, which left one more downstairs hallway and then the second floor. Abby and I had surprisingly gotten along well today. There were no fights or bouts of unbearable histrionics. Today I became acquainted with Abby the Semi-normal Person and it was nice to be around her for once. Not that I thought she was cured of her insanity and unquenchable desire for drama, but for the first time in a long while I didn’t have to squelch the need to strangle her.

We’d even been able to work together for a couple of hours to find a remedy for our situation. It was nice to be back in my warm house but a little alienating as well. I almost felt as though I no longer belonged there anymore, which was something I never used to feel towards my house. Anyway, we didn’t seem to have any luck finding anything helpful, so we gave up for the night a decided we needed the rest. We both had a bunch of homework bogging us down too. Whoever said that senior year was a blow-off year? I’d really like to slap them.

It was a little after eight when Abby’s mom walked into the house with a couple bags of groceries. I helped her carry in the rest and when I reentered the kitchen, I was greeted with the most illuminating, brilliant smile.

“You made dinner for us?” She squeaked, completely shocked. I could tell she was touched. My purpose has been fulfilled.

“Why yes, I did,” I replied, giddily. I would never ever forget the elated expression on her face when she realized that her daughter had specially prepared dinner for when she got home. “Tonight the kitchen has served grilled chicken breasts with a slight honey-barbeque glaze, homemade mashed potatoes, lima beans, warm rolls, and a Caesar salad for an appetizer. Would you like milk or soda?”

“Milk sounds wonderful,” she replied, gazing at the food in awe. “I never knew you could cook!”

“What can I say?” I exclaimed, happily. “I’m a man of many talents!”

“Don’t you mean woman?” She teased. I only smiled back innocently. No need to scar the woman with petty details.

“Here, go ahead and fill your plate!” I insisted, happily setting her glass of milk in front of her.

“Thank you, sweetie.” She took a sip before she continued to fill her plate. “This all looks so wonderful! Thank you for making dinner for me! It’s no nice to come home after a long day of work and running errands to have a delicious dinner waiting for you.” She leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. “Thank you, baby.”

“You’re more than welcome.” I couldn’t help but beam with happiness. At some point I was going to have to talk to Abby about her mother. It took about a half an hour to make someone’s entire day. And every child should let their mother know that they’re appreciated every now and then.

After dinner, I took a few moments to rest before beginning the mountain of homework that lay ahead of me. Flopping down on Abby’s bed with an exhausted sigh, I closed my eyes for a few moments of bliss. My bliss was unfortunately short-lived due to memories of earlier today rushing to the front of my thoughts.

Fag.

The word stabbed at me like a knife. All my life I’ve had to defend my sexuality. My hair was too long, my legs were too skinny, my clothes were too trendy, I giggled, I crossed my legs too far when I sat... What did all of that mean? Was there a memo sent out that outlined the definitions of what was masculine? Who determined that I was less of a man than any other? Who had that power or that right?

Queer.

Did people actually want me to be gay? Like, was there some sort of underground wager going on where someone was going to win the ten million dollar jackpot if I had sex with a guy? Ew, I couldn’t even imagine that.

Homo.

This was why I didn’t like people as a general rule. For some reason, I will never be considered a normal guy. I’ll always be the gay kid, or the MmmBop kid, or the has-been, or even the anti-social freak. I just want to be Tay. I want to be normal and happy and carefree.

If there was anything positive about being trapped inside a girl’s body, it was the fact that I could hide in here. I was no longer myself, which enabled me to say a lot of the things I would normally harbor deep within myself. No one looked at me as though I was different or special and that feeling was so empowering. I could be a normal person free from prejudgment. It was so utterly freeing.

I looked over at the clock and noticed it was already nine o’clock. Time flew by so fast this week, it was almost scary. Five days out of my life were now gone, five days I could never get back. Maybe it was wrong to think this way, but it felt as though my real life was slipping further and further away from me. And terrible as it is, a tiny, insecure part of me really doesn’t mind.