I get to class and take my seat. A couple of minutes after I arrive, I see Ashley and Zoe walk into the room, talking about something. I feel like I need to scrub my mind after hearing that disturbing information, so I make some small talk.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” I ask as they take their seats near me.

“Hi Kevin,” Zoe greets, giggling about something. “I’ll ask you this… what exactly is cereal?”

“Uh… part of this balanced breakfast?”

“She means categorically,” Ashley clarifies. “Like, would you classify it as a soup, or a salad?”

“Oh… well, it’d have to be a soup, right?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Zoe insists.

“Yeah, unless you classify the milk as a condiment,” Ashley explains. “In a soup, the broth itself is usually considered the most essential component.”

“Okay class, let’s get started for today,” Ms. Truman calls out. The talking in the room subsides.

Zoe has seemed a lot happier recently, which is really good to see. Earlier this school year, something weird happened with her family, and she actually had to move in with Ashley’s. There was a big controversy around it, according to my dad. (My dad’s a cop, so he’s usually in the know about the community drama.) For a while, she was sad, or brooding, or just tired whenever I saw her. But that was over two months ago now, and she seems like she’s been doing better. That’s good. If life gets you down, you have no choice but to keep on moving. It’s a personal philosophy of mine.

After class is over, I’m the last one to leave because I’m slow at putting my stuff up. Unexpectedly, Ms. Truman starts talking to me as I’m about to head out the door.

“Is everything alright, Kevin?” she asks me kindly. “You seem quite worried about something.”

“Oh, well…” I briefly explain what Mason and Diana told me about earlier.

“Yes, I was aware of the situation. All teachers were notified about it this morning,” she explains.

“Oh really? So the school already knows about it?” I say. “That’s good to hear.”

“How are you feeling about all of this?” she questions in a soft voice. “Are you afraid? Worried?”

“Well, I’m not worried for myself, obviously,” I answer. “But… my friends think that this blog person is probably one of the coaches. And I know most of them since I do athletics. It… really bothers me when some guys just treat women like shit. I thought that they were better people than that.”

She smiles widely at me. “Oh Kevin, you’re a treasure of a man… and sadly, your friends are probably right. There’s currently an investigation happening in the athletics department… oops. You didn’t hear that from me, okay?”

My heart plummets. So it really is true. “That’s really depressing,” I lament. “I don’t know how I’m going to be able to show up for track tomorrow, not knowing which one of them said those sick things.”

“I understand that totally,” she says sympathetically. “I want you to know that I take the safety of my students very seriously. If you ever feel scared, and you need to talk to someone, I’m here. And if you see anything suspicious, you can talk to me about that too. I’m here to help.”

“Thank you. That means a lot to me,” I tell her genuinely. “But don’t worry too much. My dad is a police officer, and he says that they can track anything someone does on the internet. They’ll catch the guy in no time.

Ms. Truman grins widely. “That is great to hear, Kevin. Well, get along to your next class now.”

“Sure thing. See ya.” I do just that. I feel slightly better after the conversation. It feels good to know that the district is aware of the problem, and they’re already working on it. There are people on our side trying to help… I just need to remember that.

Another lunch, another political debate between Ashley and Anja. This time, it is about… uh…

“Ashley, when FDR signed the National Industrial Recovery Act of 1933, he said that ‘no business which depends for existence on paying less than living wages to its workers has any right to continue in this country.’ That’s a direct quote,” Anja explains triumphantly.

“Okay Anja, that’s great,” Ashley retorts. “That doesn’t absolve you from considering the side effects. To pay for the higher wages, companies must raise the prices of their products, and since the minimum wage earners will need to use their higher income to purchase the more expensive products, they are effectively back to square one. And those are for the ones who are lucky enough to not get laid off or have other benefits cut.”

“They won’t be back to square one!” Anja counters. “It won’t effect the prices of rent and utilities, which are the largest drains on the working class’s income, so it’s a total net positive. And some businesses will probably just bite the bullet anyway; they were just gonna use the extra money to give the CEO an increased salary! That’s how the big wigs are nowadays, nobody wants to invest in their own companies!”

It carries on in that vein. Bored by the long and complicated argument, my eyes start wandering around the room. I happen to make eye contact with Yonca, so I wave at her. She waves back cheerily, and then walks over and sits at our table.

“H-hi guys!” Yonca greets shyly. “How’s it going?”

“Oh, hello there,” Ashley says. “Just giving Anja an economics lesson.”

“And by that, she means being a filthy bootlicker!” Anja counters. “Anyways, what brings you here?”

“Well… a little bird told me something interesting today!” Yonca explains. “There’s another girl in this school who seems to be Ashley’s secret admirer…”

“What? There is?” I ask, feeling jealous. “Who is it?”

“I don’t know who it is… it’s been kept a secret,” Yonca explains. “But I hear she’s very smart… she probably wants someone who can keep up with her intellectually.”

“Well, that’s nice, but I’m devoted to Zoe,” Ashley states bluntly, making me feel a little giddy despite myself. “There’s not really any point in telling me that.”

“Well, I wanted you to know why you’re getting love letters, at least!” Yonca explains.

“Love letters?” Ashley asks, frowning. “I certainly have not gotten any of those. But I will be on the lookout now, I guess.”

“If you find out who it is, tell her that Ashley is all mine!” I tell Yonca proudly.

“Wow, so you two are really dedicated to each other, aren’t you?” Yonca asks curiously. “Before Zoe came out, I really didn’t know anyone who was… like you guys. But my parents always told me that gays don’t settle down into relationships… they just meet for one night of sex, and then never see each other again.”

“Yeah, that is rather common,” Anja explains, “Or rather, it was before being gay started to be more accepted.”

“Being ostracized by society by something that’s not really your fault, or else living a lie to yourself and the world… it takes a great mental toll on you,” Ashley says. “So many gays and lesbians turned to drugs and casual sex to self-medicate. They basically had no other choice, unfortunately. Now that we’re entering an age of more knowledge about people’s sexual differences, I plan to join many others in breaking this cycle.”

“So do you think you guys might be married someday?” Yonca presses excitedly. “You know… if it’s ever legal here?”

“It is far too early to commit to something like that,” Ashley responds. She meets my eyes. “But… I would certainly like to someday.”

I smile widely at her. The thought of living out my life with her fills me with so much happiness…

“That is so sweet,” Yonca replies cheerily. “I’m happy for you two…”

“Yonca, you’re from Turkey, aren’t you?” Anja questions. “It’s really cool how accepting you are of them now. Gay people are treated really brutally in the Islamic world.”

“That is true,” Yonca agrees, frowning. “But Turkey is better than most on that, actually. There the government is mostly neutral about gay people, but in countries like Saudi Arabian and Iran, they can be locked in jail or even executed… it is horrible.”

“Oh, I see. You know, I really wouldn’t mind getting to learn more about your culture,” Anja presses her. “I think Americans are way too self-centered, we should all try harder to learn about people in other parts of the world.”

“Well, I was so young back then that I hardly remember anything about it,” Yonca explains, scratching her head. “All I know is what I learn from family… my childhood memories probably aren’t too different from yours. I watched Disney movies and SpongeBob… heard Britney Spears on the radio… read the Harry Potter books…”

“Oh, you read Harry Potter, did you?” Anja asks, looking suddenly more alert. “Out of curiosity, who was your favorite character? I always loved Luna, she is just so…”

Amazingly, the two carried on talking about Harry Potter and other things they did as kids for the rest of the lunch period. I don’t mind because it’s nicer to listen to than the economy stuff from before. I don’t say much, however, since I start daydreaming about what it would be like to be married to Ashley. I imagine having our own little house, with all our things… our many musical instruments probably all in a spare room… we’d have several pets, and maybe even adopted children… I imagine myself making dinner at night to greet Ashley with it when she comes home from work… I imagine us tucking ourselves into the same bed each night, with Ashley giving me a good night kiss before we fall asleep together peacefully… I get so lost in these thoughts that the rest of lunch flies by, and before I know it, the bell rings and I have to leave for geography.

After lunch is speech. It’s taught by Mrs. Harding, this middle-aged lady with curly black hair who talks in a southern accent.

After taking attendance, she greets us in a false cheery voice with “Hello class! It’s so wonderful to see all of your beautiful faces today! We’re going to do a fun little project, all of you get into groups of four, and then…”

Groups of four? Really? Man, if only Anja, Zoe and Ashley were in this class. Then we’d be a perfect group. But then I’d be with Anja again, and then Zoe would probably tease me more about having a crush on her… Oh god, I need to do this quick, I know she’s not gonna let me live it down until I do. Hmm, I wonder what it’ll be like when I tell her? Ideally, we’d be alone at the time… maybe at my apartment again. There’ll be one day where Dad and Kat aren’t around, and we’re sitting on the couch. Then, I beat her in a match, and she turns to me and gives me this seductive look and says, “Wow, Nova! You’re so good at this game! Oh, I need to give you a reward…” she reaches over and grabs me and kisses me full on the lips. Her pupils form into heart shapes like the characters in an anime sometimes get as she looks deeply into my eyes with longing… then, she stops the kiss, and says, “Oh, Nova… can you beat me in a few more matches? I wanna reward you with so much more…”

“Oh, that’s okay babe,” I tell her, my voice deeper and sexier than usual. “We can take a break from the games… games are only the second love of my life, next to you …” And then we go back to passionately making out, and we put our hands on each other’s waists, and this one future funk song starts playing, and…

“Nova, do you have your group yet?” Mrs. Harding asks me, interrupting my fantasy.

“Oh,” I say stupidly, feeling really confused. “Uhh…”

Wait, shit! I missed literally everything she said about what we were actually doing! God damn it, why do I always do this? Also, I was supposed to be thinking about me telling Anja I like her, and I didn’t even do that! I fail!

“We still need two more in our group, Mrs. Harding!” a girl’s voice says. “He can join us!”

I look over my shoulder at who said that… oh, fuck my life, it was Diana, who’s with that homophobic cunt Terra. I don’t wanna work with them!

“Why don’t you go join them? It looks like there aren’t any other open groups,” Mrs. Harding tells me. “Oh, Maurice, do you still need a group? Why don’t you be the fourth person.”

Sigh. Well, I guess I have no choice, then. I grab my backpack and go fucking sit with Terra and Diana. And then the fourth person is this really tall black girl with a pink frilly outfit who always sits in the back of the class.

“Wait, are you Maurice?” I ask, confused.

She nods at me.

“What the fuck? I thought that was a guy’s name,” I question. “Aren’t you a girl?”

“Yes… you can call me Charlotte,” she replies quietly. Her voice is kinda deep for a girl.

“Diana, please don’t just invite people to our table without asking me first,” Terra complains. “Now we have to work with this… thing.”

“Bitch you talking about me?” I challenge. “I’ll fucking fight you.”

“You wouldn’t seriously hit a girl, would you?” Terra responds, flipping her hair dramatically.

“I don’t give a fuck. I’ll knock you straight in the jaw.”

“Guys, please… no knocking each other!” Diana interjects, looking panicked. “Let’s just work on the assignment… let’s see, were any of you paying attention to what she said?”

“Nope,” I assert confidently. “What about you, Chocolate? Er, I mean, Charlotte?”

Charlotte gives me a sad look. “You know… she wasn’t talking about you. She meant me. It’s okay, I get it. I’ll just sit here and do nothing, and you can pretend I don’t exist.”

“I have a better idea,” I respond. “Let’s pretend she -” I point at Terra- “doesn’t exist, since she’s the one acting like a hoe.”

“NOVA MOSELY!” Mrs. Harding shouts. “IF I HEAR ONE MORE SWEAR WORD FROM YOUR MOUTH, I’M GONNA WASH IT OUT WITH SOAP!”

“Oh shit… sorry, ma’am,” I respond sheepishly.

There’s an awkward silence at the table. Diana just looks between the three of us really quickly, still on the verge of panicking.

Terra lets out a long, dramatic sigh. “Well, thanks for that, retard,” she jabs, looking at me. “Now I’m even more embarrassed. As if having to sit with a tranny wasn’t bad enough.”

Wait… okay, I think I get it now. Charlotte is trans. That explains a lot.

“Well, sucks to be you,” I jab right back at her, not having even the tiniest amount of sympathy for her.

“It’s not my problem some people don’t know the difference between man and woman anymore,” Terra sneers.

Charlotte rolls her eyes. “I do know the difference. That’s how I know I’m a girl,” she contests.

I snicker at Terra. “You sound like a 4chan incel,” I tell her. Wait a second, can girls technically be incels???

“I have no idea what you just said, and I don’t care,” Terra responds.

“Guys… please…” Diana presses, leaning over the table with pleading in her eyes. “Can we just… do the assignment?”

“Let’s just leave for region early,” Terra suggests. “I don’t feel like waiting until halfway through class.”

“Oh yeah, you guys audition today, don’t you?” I say. “Yeah, maybe that’s a good idea.”

Terra doesn’t need to be told twice and stands up with her backpack. “Come on, Diana. Let’s go.”

Diana hasn’t moved yet, and slowly turns her gaze up to Terra, her face red. “Terra, you’re really embarrassing to be friends with sometimes, you know that?”

Oh shit. Terra looks highly offended and replies, “Oh really? Where is this coming from?”

Diana stands up and grabs her backpack angrily. “You don’t even know anything about someone, and you have to put them down like that!”

They both start stomping towards the door while Terra responds, “Like I’d want to learn about a person like that.”

“But you see? You’re so ignorant!” Diana chides as they walk out the door. “If you don’t know about any of that stuff, you shouldn’t say anything! It makes you look…” their voices trail away as they walk down the hall. The room is quieter for a while, as the other students gawk at the arguing girls.

“Well, I didn’t want to work with them anyway, so that works out just fine,” I say to Charlotte. “The only problem now is, uh… I have no idea what we’re doing.”

Charlotte smiles at me. “That’s okay, I can do it. I’m really good at drawing, so it’ll be easy for me.”

“Oh, sweet! Thanks,” I tell her.

“You’re welcome. Thank you for sticking up for me.”

“Oh, that was not my first encounter with those… uh, mean girls,” I say, glancing at Mrs. Harding over my shoulder.

The rest of the period goes pretty well. Charlotte was right, she’s good at drawing. We talk about some random stuff while she draws. I learn that she met Ashley once while they were in detention. I guess what I said to Zoe earlier applies to trans people too.