by Cody Wagner
Five
A Whole New World
Familiar posters littered the wall of the classroom center across from the entrance. One of them depicted a surprised guy wearing fingernail polish. His face had a big red circle and slash through it. I didn’t think much of it, until I realized the model was a scout from orientation. What did his parents think about that? I laughed, then walked past a small shop. Peering in, I noticed a few stands of trinkets, a single rack of shirts, some bookshelves, and a couple rows of food and drinks. It was like a university bookstore—right in the classroom center—which made me feel cool; I was headed to my first class on a real campus.
The Algebra II classroom was in the middle of the second floor. Entering, I saw twelve desks lined in three rows of four, with a larger desk near the back wall in front of a huge dry-erase board. The room was already pretty full—a group of people loitered in one corner, while a couple girls near the front sat with their heads on their desks. Scanning the rows, I spotted a single left-handed desk in the middle of the room. Hallelujah, it was empty.
As I approached it, I froze and looked at the surrounding chairs. Where would the cool people sit? I felt I didn’t deserve to sit with them, but hoped my desk was on the fringe. I felt my face heat. Why did I care about that? Plopping down in the desk, I knew why. Being bullied was the last thing I needed here. This was my chance to start over and actually make some friends. Gay friends.
I took a deep breath and settled into my chair. Maybe people would think I was cool for being left-handed? Yeah right, I muttered to myself, looking around. As if on-cue, the two preppy guys I saw outside holding hands walked in and sauntered over to a window. They looked so perfect, with perfect hair and clothes and smiles. The students in the corner moved to drift around them like moons. I immediately knew they were the popular kids; they reeked of confidence and the moons watched them with longing. I admit I probably had the same dopey look.
One of the preppy guys caught me gaping and nodded. I froze. Do something, a voice in my head screamed. But I couldn’t; I was scared stiff. Come on! Finally, I grimaced back, something that included lots of teeth and very little lips. He gave me a confused look and turned away. I kicked the ground, furious with myself.
A minute later, as I was smoothing out my shirt, a woman walked in wearing a long skirt that dragged along the floor like a broom. She wore huge glasses that made her eyes look big. I vaguely recognized her from the orientation.
“Welcome, students. I’m Ms. Meeks, your Algebra II teacher.” She wrote her name on the board in efficient block letters, turned to us, and smiled.
“I’m sure algebra isn’t the first thing you wanted to see today, but if you bear with me, I’ll try to make it as enjoyable as possible.” She looked around and caught my eye for a moment. “I recognize a couple new students here. Everyone, please try your best to make them feel welcome. Remember what they’ve gone through in getting here.” I know she was trying to help, but I didn’t want that kind of attention, not from a teacher. A few people looked at me, and I pretended to write something on my hand.
“Because this is your first class, we have a lot to take care of. So let’s get started. First I’m going to take roll. I also have to give you your locker assignments and text books, so listen up.” She grabbed a piece of paper from her desk and began reading names.
The preppy guys were Luke Solano and Darrin Winbourne. I committed the names to memory and tried to come off as very mature saying, “Present,” when she called me. A few people turned when my name sunk in. The teacher even did a double take. I sat lower in my chair. Stupid parents giving me my stupid name, I muttered, barely registering my locker number (118).
Darrin was slouched so low, his long legs practically tripped Ms. Meeks as she walked to a table littered with books. I tried to match his relaxed demeanor as I walked to the table with the rest of the class, grabbed a book titled Algebra II - Twice as Much Fun as the First, and went back to my seat.
When everyone had their books, Ms. Meeks began the lecture. It went about as I expected. I wasn’t terrible at math, I just didn’t like it very much. And mixing the alphabet with numbers seemed weird. I got that letters represented unknown numbers, but I wondered why they couldn’t just use question marks or something that made more sense?
I couldn’t complain, though. The school was infinitely more than I could have hoped for. I hovered between a state of euphoria and nervousness as I left Algebra and attended English and Biology (running to my locker between classes to shove stuff inside). Every time I saw people holding hands or talking together in gay groups, my breath caught in my chest; it was liberating. On the flip side, though, part of me realized I would have to open up. With thoughts of socializing running through my head, I noted a real “healing” school seemed safer in some ways—it might have been easier to hole myself up and ignore everyone.
When lunchtime rolled around, I walked into the cafeteria and grabbed a tray. Still obsessing over my lack of friends, I wasn’t hungry at all. The “Mending Macaroni” was closest, so I decided to grab a spoonful and be done with it. Standing there with the scoop in my hands, a new, horrifying thought hit, and I jolted, shaking loose dried noodles stuck to the spoon. Where was I going to sit? I pictured myself eating alone, in a bathroom stall, and wanted to throw up.
Nauseated, I turned and glanced around the room, desperate for a miracle or, at the very least, an empty table. There wasn’t one—the place was packed. I slowly began walking a loop as my arms tingled.
Suddenly, I heard a whistle, and turned. Actually, everyone turned. The noise was so loud it echoed off the walls. Scanning the room, I found the source—it was Roze. She was sitting with Cassie and waving me over.
The miracle happened.
It seemed too good to be true, though, so I stood there like an idiot until she stood up and pointed at me. Feeling the blood flowing back into my hands, I ran to her, eternally thankful I’d talked to her this morning.
By the time I plopped my tray down at her table, I weighed about two tons lighter.
“Isn’t this place neat?” Cassie asked. Like me, she and Roze both looked a million times happier than this morning.
“Yeah,” I said, glancing around. Like any other school, there were groups of jocks, goth kids, brainiacs, and average students. Comparing us to everyone else, I classified Roze, Cassie, and I as loners. I guess that wasn’t so bad. Maybe we had an air of mystery to us. I kinda wished I had a hat to pull down over my eyes.
“How were your first classes?” Cassie asked.
“Fine,” I said. “I can’t believe they gave me math first period, though.”
Roze smiled. “Me too. Ugh, I’m terrible at math. I wonder if everyone gets it first.”
“Misery loves company,” I said.
Roze nodded and bit into a corn dog.
“I disagree,” Cassie said. “Math is awesome. I just hope I can keep up. Trigonometry is going to be tough.”
I gaped at her. “You’re in trig?” That was like two years away for me.
She grinned. It wasn’t condescending; she barely even made eye contact.
“How old are you?” I asked.
“Fourteen.”
Same as me. I shook my head.
“That’s why I like her,” Roze said. “She’s a brain but not afraid to admit it.” Roze punched her on the arm. Not hard, but Cassie’s eye grew wide with surprise.
“Sorry,” Roze said.
“It didn’t hurt,” Cassie said. “I’ve just never had someone do that before.” She continued to study Roze until it was awkward.
“So math is like your thing, huh?” I said, trying to change the subject.
Cassie focused back on me.“I love every subject. Especially debate.” She glanced down at her food. “That’s why I got kicked out of the last camp.”
“Yeah, arguing with people is fun,” Roze said.
I didn’t agree, but said, “I guess so.”
“I
like to argue the point everyone is against,” Cassie said.
“Why?” I asked.
“It gives you the chance to see things from other perspectives.”
“Wow, that’s deep,” Roze said. Then she took another bite and shouted, “I love corn dogs!” The whole cafeteria heard and I gaped at her. She raised her eyebrows at me and said, “I do.” Glowering, she looked around and said, “Anyone got a problem with that?” to people who might be staring.
Cassie smiled and studied me as Roze proposed to her corn dog. It accepted gratefully. I found myself laughing but shaking my head. She was a completely different person than this morning and I liked it. Marveling at the change, I shoved a few bites into my mouth, and said, “OK I have to run. Gym is next period and it’s all the way across campus.”
I stood, grabbed my tray, and went to throw it out, when I heard, “Wait.” I turned to see Roze getting up. She walked over to me, glanced at Cassie, then leaned close to my ear.
“Thanks for this morning.” She leaned back. “I mean, I would have been fine. But still, you know.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I shrugged and placed my plastic tray on a growing stack above a garbage can. Roze punched me on the arm and grinned. She turned and headed back to Cassie, who watched us like we were on The Discovery Channel.
The air was blazing and sticky as I walked back to my room and shoved some workout clothes and my toiletry bag into my back pack. The room was empty, so I let myself sit for a few minutes and relax. A school full of strangers was intimidating. Cool, but intimidating.
When the plastic clock hanging over the mirror read 12:35, I got up and marched across campus to the gym, situated behind the basketball court I saw on the drive in. A breeze had picked up and I looked at the sky. Clouds skittered across, but they weren’t too black or ominous. Like before, groups of kids walked around. As always, I found myself staring. One boy smiled politely as he walked past, and I gawked until he became uncomfortable and pretended to see something on the ground.
I realized I needed to work on eye contact with these people. I mean, so far, I either stared like a weirdo, or freaked like a spooked deer.
The rest of the way to the gym, I practiced making eye contact with trees. After a few tries, I decided a couple seconds felt like enough. Then I smiled at a few bushes and tried winking at another, before realizing a girl was sitting next to it. She immediately covered her face with a book. I tried laughing it off—a hyena-like guffaw that didn’t help at all.
By the time I reached the gym, my shirt was stuck to my back with heat and nervous sweat. Pulling it way from my skin, I looked up at the domed building. White brick, just like everything else. Taking a deep breath, I pulled the door open and walked in. A hallway jutted to my right. I ignored it and walked out onto a basketball court. The floor was made up of wooden planks, with worn yellow pull-out bleachers surrounding them. I smiled; this was familiar.
No one was around yet, so I walked up to a rack of basketballs and grabbed one. After looking both ways, like I was on the street, I bounced the ball once, then caught it and peered up and down the court. Nothing. Tentatively, I bounced the ball again.
After ten dribbles without interruption, I went to the closest basket and made a lay-up. My shirt stuck to my back again, but I didn’t care. I dribbled down the base line and made a reverse lay-up. Then I went to the free throw line and shot five (making four). The three-point line called to me and I dribbled out and proceeded to play around-the-world against myself.
After a few minutes, I heard a noise and whipped around. Luke and Darrin from my algebra class were standing there, studying me. They were with another guy and girl. I didn’t know who he was, but the girl’s name was Tracey. I remembered hearing it in biology before noting how gorgeous she was. Heck, all four of them looked like they belonged on an Abercrombie bag.
Luke noticed me staring and nodded at me, apparently impressed. I tried using my practice with the trees to make sufficient eye contact, then put the ball back on the rack. Darrin pulled out a set of bleachers and sat. I assumed they were on the “cool” bleachers, so I ambled over but didn’t take a seat. Instead, I put my hand on the flimsy railing close to them; I was trying to be cool by association.
The door behind me creaked open, causing me to jump. Roze entered, toting a green duffel bag. I heaved a grateful sigh and went to her. She tried to look aloof, but I could tell she was glad to see me.
“I didn’t know you had gym,” I said.
“Yeah, I was trying to say it, but you got up and ran away.”
“I wasn’t running away. I just didn’t want to be late.”
She smiled. “I had plenty of time.”
“Well, I had to grab my bag.”
She held up her duffel. “I didn’t have this in the lunch room.”
I let it go, but not before rolling my eyes at her. She laughed.
“I win,” she said, holding up a fist in victory.
She went and sat on the bleachers without giving the jocks a second look. The Abercrombie girl next to Luke raised an eyebrow at her. Roze caught it and deliberately pretended to stretch out like a cat, her legs ending up next to Luke. I gingerly climbed up, sat next to her, and started asking diversionary questions.
“What brought you here?”
“A girl found me,” she said.
“Where at?”
“A camp in Georgia.”
“Gotcha. Why did your parents send you there?”
“For healing.” That was it.
I shouldn’t have been surprised at her caution, but said, “Very helpful.”
She shrugged. “It’s the same as everyone else here, right?”
“Not really.”
She raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Then why are you here?”
I didn’t really want to open up, but couldn’t admit she was right. So, in the spirit of competition, I told her about my marker-on-the-forehead incident. She began laughing. It was loud and braying. She slapped the bench, causing other students to look at her. She glared at them, then looked back at me.
“That’s almost too crazy to be real,” she said.
“Tell me about it.”
She fiddled with her duffel. “Wow.”
I looked at her. “So that didn’t happen to you?”
She stared at me. “Of course not.”
“So my story isn’t the same as everyone else here?”
She caught where I was going and clamped up.
Smirking, I stuck my fist in the air. “I win.”
She grinned. “Of course details are different. But the idea’s the same. Sheesh.”
She was probably right. We were all a variation of: kid somehow comes out, kid is rejected, kid is sent to healing camp. I hoped that gave us all a common bond and might make meeting people easier.
“Do you regret it?” Roze asked.
“What?”
“The whole marker thing.”
Until this morning, I would have screamed, “YES! YES! YES!” I looked around at the growing number of gay students around me. A couple of them talked together, like me and Roze. Apparently, one told a joke, because the other laughed hysterically. I smiled.
“I’m not sure yet.”
She nodded, lost in thought.
At 1:00, about twenty kids loitered on or around the bleachers when a burly man with hair bursting out everywhere walked in. I tried not to laugh; hair sprouted from his collar, his sleeves, and his shorts. It was like he cut up a bunch of wigs and glued them to his body. I looked at Roze and her eyes were wide open. I had to turn away from her so I wouldn’t crack up. The man didn’t seem to care, though. And the older students sure respected him. The moment he entered, they straightened up like soldiers. I found myself sitting upright because of them. Roze remained sprawled out.
“I’m Coach Adkins, your gym teacher.” His voice was unemotional and commanding. Regardless of the hair, I was immediately intimidated.
“Befor
e we get started, go change. The men’s locker room is here.” Adkins pointed down the hallway next to the door I used. “The women’s is over there.” He gestured to the opposite wall.
With that, he opened a planner he was holding at his side, and ignored us. Everyone stood and shuffled to their respective rooms.
I tried standing close (but not too close) to Luke and Darrin as we changed. Taking off my shirt and throwing it into a locker, I noticed Luke and Darrin had perfect abs. I never worried about that before, but I peeked down at my scrawny body. No muscle. At least none I could see. I hated the word lanky, but that’s how people described me. As quickly as I could, I yanked my gym shirt on, then changed into the shorts from my bag. Luckily, my clothes were pretty much the same as everyone else’s.
After retying my shoes, I shoved my back pack into the locker and returned to the gym. When everyone was standing around the bleachers, Adkins lowered his planner.
“OK everyone, outside.”
I looked at Roze. She shrugged and we followed more experienced students out onto a field just north of the building. It looked way different than when Dad and I first drove by. A small wall with ropes dangling had been set up. Next to it, two staggered rows of tires lined the ground. They were followed by strung barbed wire that hung a couple feet off the ground.
I rubbed my hands together; it was an obstacle course from old army movies. I peeked at Darrin and Luke’s group. They were grinning devilishly; obviously, they’d seen this before.
“Today, I want to get a feel for your strengths and weaknesses. So I’ve set up The Bruiser. It’s a series of obstacles that test various muscle groups. There are exercises that work your arms, legs, and core.” He smiled slyly. “I’m sure you’re all going to love it.”
I glanced at a new girl who covered her mouth like she wanted to throw up. I felt bad for her, but admit I was kind of excited. Sure, my upper body was weak, but I liked exercising. I always had so much nervous energy, and running around made me feel better.