It seems that some schools have strict rules and give detention for numerous infractions, including tardiness and uniform specifications. Naturally, I couldn’t help but imagine what might happen if a student arrived for his first day, at just such a school, in a whirlwind of chaos, fateful decisions, and shenanigans.
My first day of 8th grade turned upside-down before I could even sit down! I had just moved into my new house the day before, along with my family. My mother had a new job out here and my father, an attorney (the English call it a barrister), had been required to appear in court back home to try a case late in the summer. It was his last trial for his former employer. We had decided to travel together afterwards so that my father would not need to worry about a move while doing the enormous amount of work necessary to prepare for his trial. This course of action also spared us the additional expense of maintaining a residence in both places.
The upshot, for me, was that I hadn’t been able to attend the new student orientation three days earlier, when the rest of the new students bought their uniforms and received their student IDs. I had to show up for my first day at my new school without either! On top of that, I was supposed to have my long hair cut short, but my last-minute appointment was canceled because the person who was supposed to cut my hair had caught COVID-19. I hadn’t been able to make another appointment and I still had a pony tail down my back! Much of me was relieved for that, but I was sure to be punished with detention for it!
Well, the Universe does work in mysterious ways! Count on it!
Half awake, I climbed out of my mother’s car in front of my new middle school, The Jorgensen School. I had been instructed to report at 7:30 AM sharp in order to pick up my uniforms and student ID. The school was strict about its rules. Failure to wear proper uniform or to carry a student ID would result in detention, and thus I had to come early on my first day. My six-inch (15 cm) pony tail was another infraction, for a boy, but I was out of time to do anything about it.
I stepped into the main lobby and saw a computer monitor mounted on the wall opposite the main entrance. It was the size of a table almost large enough to seat six and it displayed the school’s announcements. On the left side of it was the office of the Head Teacher, John McGonagall. On the right was the Reception office. I just had to stop and stare at that magnificent computer monitor!
I wish I could have that screen for my computer! I could turn my bedroom into a private movie theater! Sweet!
It was just enough of a nice thought to bring a tired smile to my face – but I didn’t want to be late on my first day. As I entered Reception, the hexagenarian receptionist was typing up something on her computer. The sign on her desk read Ms. Melinda G. Moneypenny. Smiling, she turned to face me, her hands folded on the desk between us.
“Good morning! How may I help you, dear?” she chirped.
Gah! I can’t stand perky morning people! Okay, wake up, brain!
“Erm, I’m supposed to meet Ms. Deere at 7:30, please. I-I need my uniforms and student ID in time for class.” I explained.
“Ah, you’re right on time!” She smiled. “I’m afraid Ms. Deere is delayed due to traffic, but if you’ll please have a seat she should be along shortly,” she invited, gesturing toward a classic, wooden captain’s chair with the school crest on the backrest.
“O-okay, thank you.” I stammered, thanking my lucky stars that she didn’t say a thing about my long hair. She seemed a bit hands-off with the students, at least to me, but that worked for me! Less than fully awake, I didn’t care to talk to anyone.
From my semi-comfortable chair, I studied the historical photos of the school on the wood-paneled walls. While the sounds of typing filled my ears, as the receptionist resumed her work, my mother’s voice echoed in my half-awake mind.
The movers might lose your uniforms if we order them ahead of time, she said. You might grow out of them before you start school, she said. If we give them your sizes, they’ll be waiting when you get there, she said.
I looked at the clock like a doctor checking the displays hooked up to a critical patient, wondering if Ms. Deere would arrive before the time of death – or at least before my first class started at eight o’clock sharp. At 7:52, when the photos on the walls were beginning to lose their interest, I glanced out the window as my anxiety swelled. Just then, the forty-something Ms. Deere finally hurried into the room, clutching a garment bag and suffering from acute verbal hemorrhage.
“Hello, hello! You must be Miss Llywelyn!”
Wait! What? I did a double take. Did she just say Miss Llywelyn? No, she’s just talking fast while I’m trying to wake up, that’s all. Phew! Thank goodness!
Standing up, as I’d been taught, I stammered, “Erm, y-yes, nice to me-”
“Splendid, splendid! I have your uniforms. I am so sorry to arrive so late but I got stuck in horrible traffic on the way over. An overturned vehicle was blocking the entire road! Anyway, to save time, I went straight to the school store on my way in and selected your uniforms according to the sizing information that you sent in. Anyway, everything should fit perfectly. Now, if you’ll follow me…”
Without waiting, she turned to show the way to… where? I could only hasten to follow her as she nattered on like a running lawn mower.
“There is a single-person restroom just over here where you can change. I’m afraid you’ll have to be quick about it. We’ve only a few minutes until your first class and we do need to see about your student ID. You mustn’t be late because tardiness results in a detention after school, I’m afraid. Oh, I know it’s ridiculous and draconian – we’re only human, you know – but, sadly, those are the rules. The school is strict about quite a few things, you see.” She sighed before coming to the end of what turned out to be a short walk, “Ah, here it is! Please make haste, young lady!”
Wide-eyed, I accepted the garment bag from her and stepped into the small restroom as she held the door open and pulled it shut behind me. For a moment, I stood there, staring at the closed door in shock.
I heard it that time! She said, “young lady!” So she did call me “Miss!” She thinks I’m a girl? Oh no! How in the hell could this happen?
I looked in the mirror at my yellow sweater, pink oxford shirt, and slim-fit, tan slacks.
Pink shirt? Jesus! This is why I hate mornings!!
Then I had a horrid thought.
Oh no! If she thinks I’m a girl… then which uniform is this?? Oh, dear God, please no! Not on my first day!!
Before I could unzip the garment bag, Ms. Deere’s motor mouth answered my question in her rapid-fire speech, freezing me to the spot.
“Oh, I forgot to mention that there’s a bra and panty set in there, if you should need either – benefits of such a large school as ours, of course. Anyway, it is a school policy to include them with the girls’ uniforms under such circumstances as these. Well, you know how it is, of course. We do have young ladies like yourself escorted in by their Aunt Flo on their first day, the poor dears. Then there are the tomboy types who don’t care to wear a bra, but the school does not allow the young ladies to be without a bra as the Head Teacher finds it improper. Oh, I know it’s a bother and he does live in the stone age!” She dropped her voice for that insult.
“Anyway, they took the liberty of offering the undergarments in the school store to reduce such infractions and to help resolve, erm, female crises, of course. Oh, and incidentally, girls are required to wear the tights with the skirt at this school. I know how backwards that is. A young lady really ought to have a choice about that. We’re not all the same, naturally!” she rambled.
Okay, I’m wide awake now! This can not be happening! This is terrible!
Trying to tune out Ms. Deere’s maundering about the weather, I unzipped the garment bag and found the expected girl’s uniforms. Sighing, I thought about telling her she’d made a mistake, but Ms. Deere had addressed me as a girl, and had given me girl’s uniforms, which she had picked out before she had seen me. Therefore, unless she was suffering from premature senility, the school records had me enrolled as a girl!
She might not believe I’m a boy even if I do try to explain, with the records saying I’m a girl… and with my pony tail. Oh my God! If this school thinks I’m a girl, then… wearing the boy’s uniform is, technically, against the rules for me! I have no idea what to do! Well, damn it, I can’t be late for class and I’ll have detention without the proper uniform! I’m going to have to wear the girls’ uniform and figure it all out later! I don’t see any other way. At least now my hair won’t get me detention!
Rolling my eyes, I started changing and, convinced that I wouldn’t get away with wearing my own underwear, I swapped it for the panties. It crossed my mind to wonder what to do about having a chest that wouldn’t fill out the bra. That was not a problem I ever thought I would have to solve! The bra, however, turned out to be a training one – and the small about of baby fat I had was enough.
Well, that’s another problem solved!
Pondering what other problems might present themselves before the day was up, I dressed myself in the pleated, tartan skirt in navy, burgundy, and white, followed by the white blouse. It sat a bit funny at first, but I realized that I could reach beneath the hem of the skirt and tug the blouse into place. Much better! Next, I slid the white, nylon tights onto my legs going on what I’d accidentally seen my mother or my sister doing. The navy and white saddle shoes were a relatively simple matter, as was the navy cardigan. The last thing to add was a navy and white neck tie. Sighing, I donned the infernal implement of torture.
I hate ties! I always feel like I’m wearing a hangman’s noose! Well, at least the stupid uniform fits. I’m surprised I don’t look like a dork! Actually, I look much better in a girl’s uniform than I do in my own clothes! Well… this feels really weird… but at least it feels… well, a little… good… sort of.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror looking for any flaws. I wore no makeup or jewelry, but I imagined that the school did not allow much, judging by my sister’s grumblings on the subject. All in all, I didn’t look like a boy at all. Uncertain about the looks of my low ponytail, I hastily redid it higher up, like a girl – but not before Ms. Deere knocked, telegraphing her impatience.
“Five minutes left, young lady! Please hurry! You still need to pick up your student ID, and that special little printer has problems and glitches sometimes. Oh, I’d hate for you to have detention on your first day!”
Picking up my boys’ clothes, I put them in the garment bag that held my remaining two uniforms and zipped it shut. That way, they would stay safely out of sight. With one last glance at the mirror – and down at my nylon-clad legs, I made a decision.
Okay. No being embarrassed. That’ll only give me away before I can figure this out – and then I’ll have detention for sure! Anyway, if Ms. Deere thinks I’m a girl, the entire staff probably does, too. They won’t know anything. None of the other kids even knows me. Nobody around here does. I can do this. I just… have to be a girl, that’s all.
Sighing at my predicament, I slung my backpack over my right shoulder, picked up the garment bag, and left the privacy of the restroom. Outside, I found Ms. Deere tapping her foot, checking her watch, and fretting. Quickly assessing my appearance, she smiled with approval.
“Ah, splendid, splendid! You look wonderful! I’m sure you’re going to fit right in.” With that, she turned to show the way. “I can’t imagine that an agreeable young lady like yourself should have any trouble finding friends. Anyway, the next order of business is your student ID. Please, follow me back to Reception.”
Upon arrival, she had Ms. Moneypenny take over. “Please stand right here in front of the camera and smile! You don’t want to have a bad photo on your ID all year long, now do you?”
“Erm, n-no ma’am. Thank you!” I stammered.
I always did prefer to take a good picture, but given my mood, I wasn’t sure I wanted to see this one! I barely had time to spot the camera near Ms. Moneypenny’s desk before it flashed and in a few seconds, a brand new ID oozed out of a special printer, laminated and everything.
Well, thank my lucky stars the printer worked this time! I can still make it to class!
I glanced at the picture and, sure enough, it showed the face of someone smiling in front of an oncoming train - after she had walked through a wind storm.
God, I look awful - and my name is Alan, not Ellen. Wait. What? Oh, God!!! I really am enrolled as a girl! The ID even says I’m Female! I can’t believe this! We’re going to have to show them my birth certificate to fix this! I don’t even know where it is, just somewhere in our pile of boxes! The boy’s uniform really is against the rules for me!
Before I could put my new ID away, Ms. Deere was ready with her next instruction. “Alright, the last thing to do before we get you to your first class is to show you to your new locker. You’re in luck that it’s close to your first classroom. It will save you time and you’ll just make it to class. It seems to be locker number 108. Here’s the combination. Please follow me quickly!”
She handed me a small slip of paper saying that my locker was, indeed, number 108 and the combination was 9-9-9. As we hurried down the grand hallway, I was too preoccupied with the odd experience of walking through the school in nylon tights and a skirt to put away my ID or the slip of paper with my locker combination. A few other students and teachers scurried down the corridor and past the navy lockers toward one classroom or another. Almost none of them gave me more than a passing glance and a smile – except for a boy or two!
Now, that is weird!
After a long walk across the campus, listening to Ms. Lawnmower – erm, Ms. Deere - prattle about Mr. Thatcher and his well-respected history class, we finally reached my locker.
After listening to Ms. Deere for the past ten minutes, I’m actually looking forward to my boring History class!
With haste, I opened my locker, the combination already memorized, and stashed my bag full of boy clothes and girl uniforms. I tucked my student ID and combination slip into my backpack, slammed the door, and turned to follow Ms. Deere to my first classroom, just steps down the hall.
“Well! You’ve just made it! Oh my, I almost forgot! Your schedule was emailed to you this morning. It will tell you where you need to go from here. Well, it’s time for class! Have a wonderful day!”
Her blood pressure has got to be through the roof!
Steeling myself for my first interaction with the other kids, I thanked Ms. Deere for her “help” and stepped into the classroom full of students with fifty-nine seconds to spare.
“Ah, you must be Miss Ellen Llywelyn! Thank you for being on time. Welcome to the class and indeed, the school! Please take a seat and we’ll get started.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
A quick glance around the room revealed a single vacant seat – at the far end of the front row, right next to a pretty girl with thick, wavy strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes. She looked much like a younger Ginny Weasley. Full of trepidation and wanting to avoid detention, I walked over without hesitation.
Of course I’m sitting next to Bonnie Wright when I’m dressed like this! I must have picked up a curse in a past lifetime! Well, I’d better at least smile at her and – oh shit, I can’t forget the skirt! That would give me away!
Settling into my seat, I smoothed my skirt and crossed my legs for good measure. Glancing at the mysterious strawberry blonde next to me, I decided to introduce myself. If I didn’t want to be found out, I had to socialize normally, after all – and perhaps a bit of humor wouldn’t hurt.
“Hello! I’m Ellen, the plaything of the Universe.” I flashed a nervous smile.
“I’m Shannon and I know what you mean!” She giggled. “Uh oh! We’re starting!”
We both turned to stare at the teacher and the first class of the day was underway – but I found it difficult to focus. With the teacher, Shannon, and my girl’s uniform all vying for my attention, my mind struggled in a three-way tug-of-war – until Mr. Thatcher handed out a thirty-minute detention to a tardy student for being a minute and a half late.
Thirty minutes in detention for a minute and a half of class time? Okay, seems legit. Gah! Must pay attention!
As the class drew to a close, the scraping of chairs and the chattering of students forced Mr. Thatcher to raise his voice over the din to announce the homework assignment.
“Not a bad class, huh?” Shannon flashed a contagious smile and my face mirrored hers of its own accord.
“Yeah, not bad at all! It wasn’t even boring!” I kidded, winning another giggle.
Plus, I made a new friend, and… I learned that I actually love the feeling of tights! It’s an historic day – at least, for me!
“So what class do you have next?” Shannon flirted.
Digging out my phone and retrieving the electronic copy of my schedule from my e-mail, I reported, “I have Intro to Computer Science with Mrs. Turing. How about you?”
“Same here! Let’s walk!” She beamed.
“Great! Let’s!” I grinned.
With that, I stuffed my new history textbook in my backpack and we headed out of the classroom. Then I remembered that my locker was right there. Stopping by, I opened it up to drop off my history textbook so that I wouldn’t have to carry it around all day.
Thank my lucky stars I zipped up my boy clothes. Half the hallway can see right into my locker!
“So do you like computers, too?” She chatted as I shut my locker door.
“Yeah, I do. What operating system do they use here? I hope it’s Linux!” I giggled.
“You’re in luck! It is! It’s my favorite, too.” Shannon replied.
“Nice! Where’s the classroom?”
“Right this way, milady. Right this way.” She hooked her arm in mine and led me down the corridor.
Milady? So she really does think I’m a girl! I guess that’s a good thing for now - though I have no idea what I’m going to tell her when I find a way out of this mess. I’m not sure she’ll believe the truth – or that she’s even going to want me around when she hears it.
As we walked down the hall, an older, female student with long, curly, brown hair chuckled at me, quipping, “You need a brush, hon!” I had an unsettling feeling that my hair really did stand out. Shannon grabbed my hand, making me smile, and led me into the girls’ restroom, where we did our personal business before she stood me in front of the mirror while she rummaged in her book bag, probably looking for a brush.
I glanced at my reflection and frowned. “Ugh! My hair looks like a rat’s nest! Stupid rushed morning!”
I really hope she has that brush! I hate my hair!
“Well, now’s your chance to fix it. Here you go!” Shannon smiled, holding out a purple detangling brush.
“Thank you!” I replied with relief.
Grateful, I took it from her and set to work fixing my hair. All I could do was brush it out and put it back in the high pony tail, but it looked ten times better! Much of my self-consciousness faded and I felt more at ease.
Note to self: Never show up without a brush again! Ever!
After removing my hairs from the brush, I handed it back.
“Thanks, Shannon. You’re a good friend!”
After Shannon put her brush away, I did what girls do. I gave her a quick hug. She beamed as we turned to head for class.
As we approached the Computer Science classroom, I saw a male student walk out of the room with his back toward us. For a moment, I thought he looked familiar, but I dismissed the possibility. After all, I had just moved across the country and I didn’t know a soul when I got here.
Stepping into the Computer Science classroom, I saw that there were twenty machines made by System 76 that ran on The Jorgensen School’s customized version of the Mint Linux operating system.
“These are great machines! I want one!” I marveled.
With that massive computer monitor in the lobby!
“I know, right?!” Shannon giggled.
All of the features of Mint Linux were familiar to me, but the aesthetics of the desktop, including the colors and the operating system logo, were customized to reflect The Jorgensen School. I wanted to create my own personalized version of Linux someday! It looked like fun! Meanwhile, I set about customizing a few things within my own account to the way I liked them. That way I wouldn’t fumble for them in class.
Just then, a chorus of groans caught my attention. When I looked up to see what that was about, I saw several irritated faces glaring at a boy with messy hair like straw and small, green, snake-like eyes. Shannon had just enough time to mutter, “Oh no. Nothing says ‘summer is over’ like the sight of Angus McFee.”
Angus wasted no time advertising his personality as his eyes violated Shannon. “Hey, someone’s on fire today!” He cackled. The tension in her jaw revealed just how she felt about him!
“Hay is for horses,” I sneered, winning a snort from Shannon and a glare from Angus.
“Well, listen to the new Honey over here.” He riposted, slapping his hands on my desk, invading my personal space, complete with bad breath. “By the way, when was the last time you went to a hairdresser?” He laughed out loud at his own joke, a remark so appalling that my jaw fell open. A few other girls had shocked expressions on their faces as well. A real girl would have been mortified – I knew, because I was, too – and I had just brushed my hair!
That is so not called for!
Looking at Shannon in the highest of dudgeon, I declared, “He’s about as charming as dog poop - and he smells like it, too!” Turning back to Angus, I barked, “Go smoke a tailpipe, you moron!”
If laughter had been a competition, I would have just won. The room had lost it. Angus slunk to his back-row seat. I, however, wasn’t laughing. For the first time in my life, I felt unbearably self-conscious about my hair. My face was awash in an intense blush as I slid down in my seat, my middle finger brushing a strand of hair out of my face.
I thought my hair looked pretty when I finally fixed it up. Do I really look like I need a hairdresser? I probably do, since I haven’t been to one. At least I use conditioner. I hope it’s enough!
With that, my insecurity was back.
God, what an asshole!
Shannon reached out and put a comforting hand on my shoulder, “Don’t listen to that dickhead. Every girl in this school knows he needs his mouth washed out with a toilet brush and a bottle of Ty-D Bol.” I smiled at her in gratitude, amused by her literal potty mouth, before she stammered, “B-Besides, I-I like your hair. I-It’s very pretty.” Suddenly she had a blush of her own!
“Thank you. So is yours. I mean that.” We held the smile, hopefully ticking off Angus, until the teacher walked into the room, quieting the class as though she’d thrown a switch.
They really do respect the teachers here – that or they really don’t want detention!
“Good day, class. For anyone who doesn’t know, I am Elaine Turing. You may call me Mrs. Turing. You will note that the security on these machines is rather tight. Sadly, as you might imagine, shenanigans have forced us to upgrade our security, such as the time someone managed to hack into the announcements board in the front lobby just last year. It was during Alumni Weekend, no less, and the perpetrator changed the contents of the board to a rather disparaging message, in a large font, about our Head Teacher.” She paused, flashing an old-fashioned look, as the class laughed out loud.
“Needless to say, we were not amused,” she continued. “Anyone caught trying pranks with our computers or our network will be dealt with most severely – and unauthorized access of a computer account is a violation of the law, so don’t get any funny ideas, please.”
When Mrs. Turing turned her back, Shannon whispered in my ear, “You should have seen it! The board said, ‘John McGonagall is a transvestite.’” We had to struggle to keep a straight face, but we managed to succeed. Just.
Alright, that’s enough! I am not getting detention on my first day! Though I do hope I’m getting lunch with Shannon! I like her!
At the end of the class, every machine in the room bleeped at the stroke of 11:00 AM. The operating system had sent out an automated system message:
Broadcast Message from [email protected]
(/dev/ttys001) at 11:00 AM...
Class dismissed!
PS - John McGonagall is a transvestite!
Signed, his therapist
The entire class roared with laughter as they began saving their work and gathering their things. Even Mrs. Turing could barely hold herself back from giggling, cross as she was. At least she had a sense of humor, albeit well hidden!
“Alright! Nobody leaves this room just yet!” She ordered, crossing over to close the door. “Much to my chagrin, that stunt was perpetrated from the machine on my own desk,” she groused, returning to her desktop computer. “And according to the command log… the message was broadcast to this class only, and… the message was read from a file, entitled, ‘firstday.txt,’ which is right there in my main directory. I’ll just delete that. Oh, and I’ll need to access the crontab file and remove the cronjob to stop it from throwing up error messages because it can’t find the file.”
Of course, the mention of ‘throwing up’ had the class in another round of stitches.
“Now then, I can trace this no further because it was created within my own account. However, anyone who observed unauthorized persons in the vicinity of this desk prior to class is strongly encouraged to come forward with information. We really can not allow such mischief or this school is going to be overrun with chaos.”
Oh, please! That plane has left the gate and taken off! You’re much too late!
After Mrs. Turing mentioned it, I remembered that I had seen a student leave the room as Shannon and I walked in, but how could I report that! Maintaining a low profile was a tactical imperative for my survival. I was not about to jeopardize it over such a harmless prank!
“Alright, class, you may go!” Mrs. Turing dismissed. Shannon hustled out the door and I darted after her so I wouldn’t get lost.
“Shit! I need the restroom but five other girls just walked in there and we have three minutes!” Shannon moaned.
“Maybe the single-person one near the front lobby is clear.” I offered, following her as she led the way to the small bathroom where I had changed. We were in luck; it was empty. There wasn’t a sign on it, but I wondered if it was reserved for teachers only. The fates were kind, as we got in and out and hurried to our next class. As we passed the announcements board in the main lobby, I couldn’t help snickering, imagining the sight of JOHN MCGONAGALL IS A TRANSVESTITE displayed on the large screen. Shannon then burst out laughing at me and got me started.
We made it to Science class with less than ten seconds to spare and, this time, Shannon and I claimed our seats in peace, with only a few puppy smiles from some of the boys – and one girl, a tall brunette with brown eyes, who looked like a young Emily Mortimer.
Out of nowhere, I realized that this brunette made me feel threatened in a way that was different from anything I had experienced before because it was in the social sense. In my thirteen years as a boy, I had only felt threatened from the physical standpoint.
Oh God! Am I actually afraid that I might not be pretty enough as a girl? Well, I am still embarrassed about my hair, thanks to Angus McFee!
As I tried to expunge Angus McFee from my mind before Shannon’s prescribed method of washing out his mouth made me laugh, Ms. Hawking, the teacher, began the class. She started by talking about the new James Webb Space Telescope and the latest discoveries that it had enabled us to make. I hoped that she made a habit of sharing science news like that! If so, I knew I’d like this class!
After Science class ended, as Ms. Hawking shouted out the homework assignment, Shannon and I headed for the door. The brunette came up to Shannon to talk to her and that same threatened feeling came back to me like an earthquake that struck after a foreshock.
Shannon wouldn’t rather talk to her, would she? God, it would be so awkward to stand here while the girl I like talks to another girl right in front of me – and “Emily Mortimer” is prettier than me! I hate her! Oh, my God! I do sound like a jealous girl!
“Erm, hi Shannon. Having a good day?” she ventured with a goofy smile.
“Hello, Angelina.” Shannon gave a polite response. “Nothing to write home about, really. You?” She finished, solely for the sake of manners. Angelina’s smile brightened at her remark.
Oh, brother! I thought girls could read one another. Angelina doesn’t have a clue! I hope I’ve never looked that dopey!
“Good day so far! I can’t wait for sports sign-ups at lunch! I love playing soccer!”
Wait! What? I did another double-take. Did she say something about sports sign-ups? Oh no!
Shannon appeared to stop herself from rolling her eyes before finally responding, with a fake-cheery tone and a deadpan face, “That’s great. I hope you make the team.” Then she stared in silence at the hapless brunette.
“Well… uh… thanks! Anyway, nice talking to you!” She scurried away, thinking she’d made progress, the poor girl.
Angelina seems nice enough but… I wonder if her brain has a label on it that says, “Slightly Irregular.” I still hate her. She’s way better looking than me! My God, I really am jealous and insecure! Well, it’s my first day as a girl!
Then I caught a glimpse of my nails as my hand moved to my hair.
My nails!! Oh, dear God! I didn’t even think about my nails!
I hazarded a glance at them and remembered that they were neatly trimmed and at least androgynous in appearance. Sighing in relief, I realized that, at the worst, I looked like a tomboy – not that I had seen a tomboy in the mirror.
Thanking my lucky stars for my good personal habits, I took a breath to calm my nerves. I glanced back at Shannon in time to see her slowly shake her head, glad to be rid of Angelina. I relaxed further and followed Shannon out of the room – completely forgetting about sports sign-ups.
The Spanish classroom was decorated with posters of the Mayan calendar and the Temple of Kukulcan. Looking around the room, I recognized Angelina a few seats over… and someone coming in the door.
“Oh no! Not him again!” I blurted.
“Tell me about it. Oh, hell!” She averted her gaze as he came close.
“Well, well, well! We meet again, Fire!” He started.
He really does think he’s God’s gift. He definitely has a high opinion of himself. Ugh!
“Piss off, McFee!” Shannon hissed.
He only laughed. “Ooooo, we are on fire today!”
Turning to Shannon, I griped, “The guy’s like black mold! You can’t get rid of him!” She laughed, along with three other girls. Angus, however, whirled around and turned on me.
“You would know! You probably have it you-know-where!” Angus sneered, invading my space again.
I gave him my best dirty look. “Go play in traffic!” Seven girls guffawed at him.
“Go to a hairdresser!” He retorted, making several girls stare in disgust.
“You belong in a dumpster!” Shannon growled.
“You’re a barf bag, Angus McFee!” Angelina zinged, no doubt trying to impress Shannon.
“Shut up, Beanstalk!” He whined, glaring at Angelina.
With that, he ended his volley of taunts with an ignoble retreat to his seat.
That kid is never getting a date at this school! He really is a moron!
His remark was too pathetic to hurt this time. Nevertheless, my hand made an unconscious move to my hair, my middle finger dragging that strand of loose hair down the back of my ear.
“Hola, clase! Por favor sientate y empecemos!” (Hi, class! Please sit down and let’s start!) “Mi nombre es Señor Ortega.” (My name is Mr. Ortega.)
The last few students quickly sat down at attention while Mr. Ortega looked at me intently and scanned what must have been her class list.
“Y… veo una cara nueva hoy!” She looked up with a smile. “Debes ser la señorita Ellen Llywelyn, verdad?” (And… I see a new face today! You must be Miss Ellen Llywelyn, right?)
“Si, es verdad, Señor.” (Yes, that’s right, Sir.)
“Ah! Bienvenido a mi clase ya la escuela!” (Ah, welcome to my class and the school!)
“Muchas gracias, Señor.” (Many thanks, Sir.)
“Tu acento es muy bien. Has estudiado Español antes, eh?” (Your accent is very good. You have studied Spanish before, eh?)
“Si, señor. Me mude aqui desde Los Angeles, donde tenia amigos de Mexico. Empece a aprender de ellos y luego estudie Español en mi escuela alla.” (Yes, sir. I moved here from Los Angeles, where I had friends from Mexico. I started learning from them and then I studied Spanish at my school there.)
“Muy bien! Voy a disfrutar enseñandote!” (Very good! I am going to enjoy teaching you!)
“Gracias, Señor.” (Thank you, sir.)
Oh no. Dirty looks from the other students – except Shannon. She looks impressed! But damn! I was popular when I took on Angus McFee. I hope I haven’t blown it! Then again, I may do well in Spanish, but a straight-A student I am not! I guess they’ll know that soon enough!
“Bueno, clase! Sus tarea es leer el primero capitulo en sus libros de texto y hacer los ejercicios. Hasta la vista!” (Okay, class! Your homework is to read the first chapter in your textbooks and do the exercises! Bye!)
“You did a great job in here today, Ellen!” Shannon grinned.
“Thanks! I think the others are afraid I’m going to wreck the grading curve or something.” I hazarded.
“Bah! Don’t worry about them. Never does any good!” She pointed out.
“Well, that’s true. Anyway. It’s lunch time! I’m starved! Shall we?” I hungered.
“Yes! I’m starved, too! Let’s go!” She hooked her arm in mine and dragged me out the door towards a hot meal.
The dining hall was decorated in wood-paneled class and the food tantalized my nostrils. Shannon stood next to me in line and I couldn’t wait to eat. We collected navy blue trays with plates of zesty pasta, salad, and glasses of water. We found a two-person table against the far wall and sat down to dine.
“Well, there’s a lot of rushing around to avoid being late and getting hit with detention, but overall… it wasn’t too bad for a first morning, eh?” I smiled at Shannon.
“Apart from Angus McFee, that is, yeah!” She chuckled.
“Well, there is that.” I admitted, making her smirk. “He does that to you a lot, doesn’t he?” I sobered.
“Yeah, I think he’s had a crush on me since fifth grade, only it’s… kind of toxic, obviously.” She grimaced.
“Ugh. Yeah, I can tell.” I sympathized. “You know, I’ve been handling him all wrong. I shouldn’t be reacting at all because that’s what they want. You’re better at that than me.”
“She’s on fire!!” Angus swooped past from out of nowhere, hissing at Shannon, making her stop and roll her eyes, one bite halfway to her mouth.
“If I’m on fire, then he’s a biohazard!” She murmured, making me snicker before she continued, “I wish I’d tripped him. That would have been so satisfying!” She was lucky that there were no teachers within earshot. Yet, it was unfortunate, because they probably had no idea this was going on. Angus had a knack for striking in the absence of a teacher.
“Well, it would be funny,” I agreed, with a chuckle. “But good for you for not reacting until after he was out of earshot.”
“Yeah.” She smiled.
CRASH!!!
“You bitch!!!”
We turned around to see what the commotion was all about and saw, across the room, Angus McFee getting to his feet covered in the contents of his tray. Shannon and I burst out laughing.
“Mister McFee!” Mr. McGonagall strode toward him. “That’s an hour’s detention for you, boyo! That kind of language is not acceptable!”
“B-but she tripped me!!” He wailed, pointing at a short redhead feigning the purest of innocence as a mere witness to an unfortunate mishap. No prizes for guessing who Mr. McGonagall believed.
Knowing that the redhead had done what Shannon had wanted to made the two of us laugh even harder. Then Shannon glanced at her iPhone. “Say, we have just enough time before class to sign up for sports! We’d better go!”
With that, my laughter died in my throat.
On the way in to the field house, a departing male student brushed by me and muttered, “Watch it, dude!”
Shannon and I slowed up, exchanging glances, baffled as to what that was all about. “Do they always refer to girls as ‘dude’ here?” I wondered aloud.
“Oh… occasionally… sure. You know, it’s… just an expression.” Shannon mumbled, as she glanced behind her. She didn’t sound too sure.
“What’s the matter?” I probed.
“Well… there was something about the way he said that… but I can’t put my finger on it. Well, I wouldn’t worry about it! I’m sure it’s nothing.” She smiled at length.
“Yeah, well, let’s hope not!” I tittered, heading inside the field house with one hand absently dragging that loose hair behind my ear.
Shannon shrugged, shaking her head, as she followed.
We arrived in the field house lobby to find the sign-ups taking place at a table, where a lady sat, talking to a student and typing on her lap top. The student walked away, their sign-up complete, and Shannon took her turn.
Oh, God. I’ve got to figure out what I’m going to do! I can hardly use the girls’ locker room!
Just then I spotted a “life preserver.” One form at the end of the table spoke of an option to exercise at home – and no, I did not see the fine print!
“Well, I hate sports,” Shannon returned from the table while the next student walked up, “but I’ll be playing tennis! At least that’s nonviolent!” Shannon smiled. “What are you signing up for?” She asked.
“I’d prefer home exercise,” I admitted. “I’ve always hated sports, too.”
Here comes the fine print!
“Oh! You have to have an acceptable reason for that, you know, something like recovering from an injury or surgery… or, they had a transgender student until last year and they allowed her to use that option until she graduated. You know, things like that.” She paused. “Do you mind if I ask?”
Oh no! What do I tell her? Well, now’s my only chance to stop hiding from her and come clean! She hasn’t asked until now, so I haven’t lied, but… now that she’s asking… alright! I know what to say!
I checked the area for eavesdroppers before I went with my chosen explanation.
“No, of course I don’t mind.” I looked her in the eyes and spoke the words in a hushed tone. “Looks like I’m the next transgender student.” I related the morning’s events, admitting that I had expected to attend as a boy. I knew I was risking further complication of my situation by using this explanation, but I didn’t know how else to address the sports sign-up problem and maintain honesty with Shannon.
“I’m not saying that I identify as a girl, exactly," I continued, "but I do have a much easier time with the boys this way. I don’t feel like a wimp next to them. My honest reactions don’t get me attacked. Of course, they do pick on me if it’s something they would tease a girl about, like Angus McFee, but when they do, they act like they’re talking to a girl. I definitely like that way better! I can hold my own against Angus McFee this way because I have some power to rally other girls against him. Speaking of the girls, I get along better with them. Plus, the teachers all seem a little nicer to me than before. I’m getting all of that because I’m dressed as a girl. The uniform was weird at first, but I got used to it pretty fast. I really like school better this way and I would rather come as a girl again tomorrow. Heck, I even love the tights. Isn’t all that what transgender means?”
Reciprocating my quiet tone of voice, she mused, “Sounds to me like you’re on the right track. A typical boy would never want to come to school as a girl no matter what!” She giggled, getting me started. “Anyway, I had no idea about you. I just see a girl.”
“Really? Thanks, I guess!” I smiled.
“You know,” she confided, “the last girl like you was kind of a friend of mine, even though she was older. I liked her and I like you, too!”
“It’s good to know that you’re open-minded. I’m glad you’re here, Shannon.” I replied.
“And I’m glad you’re here, Ellen.” We bonded over a mutual, bright grin - until it occurred to me that I hadn’t signed up yet.
“Oh! I guess I’d better get on with it. We have our next class pretty soon. I hope I don’t have any problems!” I finished with a nervous shrug.
“Oh, I doubt you will, with your records already changed, but good luck!”
I stepped to the sign-up table and filled out the home exercise form. There were only a handful in that pile, but then I realized they probably didn’t have many students signing up for it. With that done, I approached the lady at the laptop, unable to banish my anxiety.
“Hello, there! Ah, I see you have a form for me?” the lady smiled.
Just then, another teacher came over. “Excuse me, Merida, the boys’ and girls’ tennis teams are now filled up.”
“Okay. Thank you, Martina.” Turning back to me, Merida perused the form I had given her. “Now, where was I? Ah, yes, you are requesting home exe- oh, I see! Hmmm, that’s odd. Normally, they would notify me--” she paused, with a puzzled expression.
Uh oh!
“May I see your student ID, please?”
I pulled mine out of my backpack - with its awful photo - and handed it to her. After a quick look, she returned it.
“I see they did change your records. Alright then, it is legitimate.”
Thank Christ! I breathed a sigh of relief that I could put off the inevitable a while longer. I didn’t expect to go unnoticed until I graduated! It had to blow up in my face sometime – but at least it was avoided for now.
“Here is the exercise form. You will need to fill out each day on there. The dates are already there. You only need to fill in what exercise you did each day and then have a parent initial and date in those right-hand columns. When this form is completed, you’ll simply bring it to the office here at the gym on Monday mornings, when you’ll receive a fresh sheet for the new week. Alright?”
“Yes, ma’am. Sounds easy enough! Thank you!”
“You’re welcome. Next, please?”
Well, that was easy!
I had just turned around when I found myself face-to-face with a male student I hadn’t met yet who wore a troubling smirk. “Whoops! Close call, little dude!” he gibed.
My eyes were wide open, as he began signing up for a sport, my feet slowly making their way toward Shannon on their own. I heard Merida speak up behind me in a stern voice. “Young man, we do not refer to the ladies as dudes at this institution!”
“But he--” the student tried.
“Enough of that nonsense!” she barked. “Now, please sign up so that you get to class on time!”
“Yes, ma’am!” he acquiesced.
Shannon was standing to one side, waiting for me to finish, with a puzzled look of concern on her face. I was still semi-shocked and started speaking in an almost automatic manner. “Well, it’s done! She was surprised that she hadn’t been informed about me, but my ID says I’m a girl named Ellen, and since my records seem to be in order, she allowed it…”
“In other words, she knows she’s covered if there’s any problem.” Shannon murmured. “But what happened with that jerk? Did I hear the word ‘dude’ again?”
I nodded, beginning to recover. “And the word ‘he.’ It wasn’t just an expression this time. What is happening?”
Shannon stared. “Uh oh. I wish I knew.”
“You and me both!” I sighed. “Well, come on, let’s get to class before we get detention!” Departing the gym, we headed for our next class, arm in arm, talking along the way.
“There must be some reason that kid used the male pronoun with you. But how would he know about you?” Shannon mused.
“I have no idea,” I admitted.
“You haven’t told anyone else, have you?” She checked.
“No! I don’t dare! I trust you and I don’t want to lie to you, but with anyone else… it’s way too early!” I shivered.
“Well, I wonder if it could have anything to do with the way your records were changed before you even showed up this morning. How the hell did that happen anyway?” Shannon marveled. “I mean, what about your transcripts from your old school? Any mismatch should have gotten someone’s attention here at Jorgensen… unless your transcripts were changed, too. Yeah, that must be what happened.”
“I really wish I knew what to think.” I shook my head. “Well, I applied to Jorgensen without visiting because of the distance, you know, so I never sent them anything on paper. It was all done online.” I explained as we walked.
“Oh, so they never actually met you before today? Well, not in person, I mean?” She gushed.
“No, not beyond the online interview.” I conceded.
“Well, with your hair being as long as it is, they must have thought that they heard you introduce yourself as Ellen. What were you wearing?” She queried.
“Almost the same thing I was wearing this morning. I had on a nice sweater over a white oxford shirt… which is fairly unisex these days, isn’t it?” I considered. “And they couldn’t see my legs, of course, so for all they knew, I could have been wearing a skirt.” I finished.
“Yeah… none of that would have told them that they were getting anything wrong during the interview… unless your parents talked to them using male pronouns…” Shannon thought aloud.
“Well, they didn’t spend a lot of time with my parents because they both work,” I remembered.
“Oh, then maybe that didn’t tell the interviewer anything either,” she reasoned.
“Yeah… but I filled out the forms with my name correctly.” I realized.
“Well, then… maybe somebody changed your records and transcripts sometime closer to when classes started and the interviewers had forgotten you by then because they talk to so many kids. By the time the school looked up your records in the fall, nothing about them would have set off any alarms!”
“Yeah… so who changed my records, then?” I wondered.
“That, I don’t know,” she frowned.
Just then, we entered the lobby and Shannon stopped in front of Reception and the Head Teacher’s office. Then she glanced at the infamous announcements board in the front lobby. Her eyes went wide as ideas collided in her mind, making her gasp and freeze.
“The computers! Wait a minute! You applied electronically because of the distance, right? And there have been recent student shenanigans with the computers! What if those two things are related?” She turned to look at me.
“Yeah, you know, I saw someone come out of the Computer Science lab as we walked in for class! I thought he looked familiar. Did you see him?” I inquired, with a sinking feeling.
“Yeah. That was Mark Henderson. Why?” She wondered.
“Oh no! I do know him!” I blanched. “He went to my school in California. I knew that he moved away the year before I did, but I had no idea where. Apparently, he moved here! We didn’t get along too well. He always called me names like faggot and sissy. He must have a contact back in Los Angeles who told him I was applying here!”
Shannon glowered at that. “I’ll bet he would have wanted to find out if you were accepted… and he would have had to get into the records for that… but the first time, he would have been careful to check and nothing else… because he had to make sure he didn’t get caught… so that he’d be able to get back in later… and he would have found some opportunity to access the records right before classes started… when the staff had as much time as possible to forget you from the interview… and that would have been when he changed your name and gender to Ellen and Female in the school records.” She finished, slowly turning her head to look at me in amazement.
“Yeah… and for that, he would have had to get into Ms. Moneypenny’s account. Mrs. Turing’s wouldn’t have access to those files, not if they’re following the rule about never giving users any access that they don’t need.” I murmured. “As for Ms. Moneypenny, she might use an insecure password that he figured out. She might even write it down and keep it around her desk somewhere. It’s not a good thing to do, at all, but there are plenty of people that do it anyway. It could be how he got into Mrs. Turing’s account, too.”
“Maybe, maybe not. The prank in the Computer Science lab only took a minute to pull off. Mrs. Turing might have left her machine logged in when she walked away from the room, maybe to run to the bathroom. That would have been enough time, for sure.” She gasped. “You know, he was suspected to be involved with last year’s prank on the announcements board, too,” she gestured at it, “but they couldn’t prove it, so he got away scot-free.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” I smiled. “After all, they only need a witness who is willing to come forward, and we did see him coming out of the Computer Science lab before class, didn’t we?”
A satisfied smirk commandeered Shannon’s face. “Why, yes! Yes, we did!” she couldn’t help but giggle.
“And since he was nice enough to do me such a favor with my school records, isn’t it only fair to repay his kindness by reporting him?” I teased.
“Yes! And you know, at this school, coming forward will keep us both in the teachers’ good books, too. It’s a brilliant idea! Let’s go!” Shannon grabbed my hand, making my heart flutter, and led me into Reception, where we left a nice message for Mrs. Turing regarding the probable identity of her “cyber-prankster.”
We strutted out of Reception pleased with ourselves – until my smile faded because I remembered Shannon’s original reason for launching into that whole conversation.
“What is it, El?” Shannon worried.
“There’s still the problem of why two kids have called me ‘dude’ – and ‘he.’” I sighed.
“Oh, right, I forgot.” Shannon paled. “Well, the only one who knows about you, besides me, is Mark Henderson!”
“Yeah.” I added. “The only thing I can think of is that he must have kicked his game up a notch. Maybe he started telling other kids about me and that’s why they’re calling me a dude now!” I felt sick to my stomach.
“Well… I don’t see any sign that anyone believes those idiots… except Mark, of course.” Shannon tried to reassure me.
“Well, we’d better get to class. We can’t do anything about it right now.” I deflated.
“So, what’s your next class?” Shannon inquired.
“Math,” I grimaced. “Yours?”
“Same,” she commiserated. “Well, maybe together we can figure it out.”
“Yeah. Come on!” I shrugged.
Math class was spared the presence of one Angus McFee, but on the way into the classroom, two boys snickered at me. One of them mocked, “What’s up, dude?”
A real girl would have assumed they were talking to one of the boys and paid no attention, so I ignored them and kept walking with Shannon, who smiled at me, knowing what I was doing.
We had arrived just before the start of the class and the teacher began right after we sat down. “Hello, class. I am Ms. Newton. And… hello to our new student, Miss Ellen Llywelyn. Welcome to the class and the school!”
“Thank you, ma’am!” I smiled.
Behind me, a whisper got my attention, followed by a laugh from the same two boys. My inner tension rose, but I was not about to acknowledge them. An icy stare from Ms. Newton silenced the entire classroom.
“Careful, boys. You’re a hair’s breadth from detention. Don’t push it.”
The rest of the class went as smoothly as a Math class can. Shannon and I left the room as soon as we could before those two goons opened their mouths. We made it into the hall before we heard them, behind us, muttering, “I don’t know. What do you think?” Then they turned in the other direction, out of earshot.
I pulled Shannon close. “You know what? I need intel on those jerks. They must be connected to Mark somehow. Who would know? Anyone in your network?”
“I was just asking myself the same thing.” She drawled, peering at a girl just ahead of us before whispering in my ear, “That’s Bethany Jones! She’s been dating one of those two weasels since last spring break. Let’s ask her.” She didn’t wait for an answer.
“Bethany, wait up!” Shannon caught up to her, with me on her tail.
“Hi, Shannon! Oh, hi, Ellen. Erm, welcome to Jorgensen.” She flashed a half-hearted smile.
That’s kind of troubling, but I’ll have to deal with it later.
Shannon steered the conversation to safer territory by dropping the casual question, “Bethany, aren’t you dating Edward Tiffany?”
“Yeah, I am! He’s, like, so gorgeous!” She swooned.
With a knowing twinkle in her eye, Shannon probed, “Did I, erm, see his brother James hanging out with Mark Henderson?”
I knew that she had seen no such thing. It could only mean that James was the same age as Mark, so she was fishing to find out if that was the connection.
“Yeah, probably. They’re good friends. Mark even stops by Edward’s house sometimes to see James when I’m there. Mark is bad news, by the way. If you’re thinking about James, well, I would only go for him if you don’t mind Mark being around. Edward’s great, though,” she sighed. “He’s just, well, a tiny bit of a follower,” she confirmed with a giggle.
Shannon and I exchanged subtle glances. We had the answer to our question – and that was when Bethany hit us with the unexpected.
“By the way… what they said… it’s not true, is it?” she ventured, giving me side-eye.
Shannon’s eyes widened, but she wasn’t so experienced in this area.
Okay… a real girl would have no idea what Bethany is talking about.
“Erm… is what true?” I shrugged as though Bethany had been smoking something.
Now let’s see if she tells me.
“You know,” she hesitated, “That you’re a dude.”
Okay, don’t look around. A real girl wouldn’t care who heard that because it’s obviously insane.
Keeping a bewildered look on my face, I pretended not to understand to buy myself time to think. What happens if you ask a real girl if it’s true that she’s a dude? She… assumes that someone must be making fun of her flat chest! Flat chest!! That’s it!!
I gaped as though realizing that Bethany had insulted my chest. “Mean! Just because your boobs grew in already and mine are still pancakes!” I put on a hurt face, crossing my arms. “I’d love to see you go jogging!” I finished.
Shannon snorted and doubled over in laughter as Bethany blushed. It was catty of me, and on my first day, but I needed to keep her mind away from my gender! Suddenly, I knew exactly how to finish the job and keep it friendly… and the extra payback wouldn’t hurt me at all!
“But seriously, though?” I leaned close, with my voice hushed, “If you’re dating Edward, I’d keep a tight leash on him. A lot of times, they tease a girl because they like her. Remember?” I smiled sweetly, adding a dose of cutesy eye flutter to take the edge off.
“Yeah, well… hands off! He’s mine!” Bethany tittered. I was glad that she was still mostly in good spirits, making it clear that she had taken things as intended, but my suggestion about his leash had gotten to her – and best of all, Edward Tiffany might now get some measure of comeuppance from Bethany!
“Well, we have to get to class. Can’t be late!” Shannon refereed.
“Yeah! Bye!” Bethany headed off in another direction.
“Bye!” Shannon and I chorused, making each other laugh. Shannon grabbed my hand and hurried me toward the girls’ restroom.
When we got there, Shannon made sure it was empty. As we self-checked at the mirror, we had a quick talk.
“Well, that answers that question,” I declared, as I made sure my hair looked the way I had fixed it earlier.
Meanwhile, Shannon got her brush out and ran it through her hair, chatting as she worked. “Yeah, now that we know James is good friends with Mark, we also know that Mark told James and James told Edward and his friend… and he probably told those other guys, too, you know, the ones who called you “dude” after lunch and at the field house?” Shannon put her brush back and shook her head with an angry sigh.
“So of course Bethany would have heard about it from Edward, too.” I added. “I wonder who else?”
“Well, I still don’t think anybody actually believes it. Bethany was a pushover – and the two guys in Math class were still talking over what they believe.” She dropped the volume of her voice and continued, “By the way, your instincts have been bang on every step of the way. You’ve handled every problem the way any of us girls would respond to crap like that. Working the grapevine to find out about Edward and Mark is a classic. Speaking of Edward, that crack about him being attracted to you was priceless!” She laughed. “Oh, and the one about Bethany jogging was perfect! I’d love to see that, too!” We both lost it.
“So, wait, my instincts are bang on? Really?” I reflected her tone.
“Yeah, you always do what most girls do!” Shannon insisted.
“Huh…” I reflected, still in a quiet tone. “How would I know how to do that?”
“We’ll have to talk about that later. Come on!” She winked, and with that, we stepped into the hallway. It felt like jumping into a fast-moving river!
As we walked into our English Literature classroom, we were greeted with calm. No jokes, no jibes, and no Angus McFee.
Thank God there’s no sign of him! I don’t know what I would do with that punk in every class!
“Hello, everyone. I’m Mr. Austen, for those who don’t know. Welcome, Ellen!” he smiled.
“Thank you, sir.”
I don’t hear anyone calling me “dude” or “he!” It must not be all over school then!
At the end of class, Mr. Austen assigned us to begin reading Sense & Sensibility. Amid the usual din, Shannon and I gathered our things and stepped out of the classroom into the hall.
“Well, it’s time for sports and I have to go swat tennis balls!” She shook her head.
“Well, at least tennis is nonviolent, like you said!” I smiled.
“The sport is. I don’t know about some of the players, though” she joked. “See you after?”
“Yeah!” My smile grew brighter. “Try to have fun!”
She responded with a raspberry. “I’d so much rather sit in study hall with you! You have no idea! Okay, gotta go!”
I gave her a wave and headed the other direction to study hall, which was to be held in the room where I’d had my Math class. On the way over, as I turned right to pass Reception, I noticed that the person behind the desk was not Ms. Moneypenny, the receptionist, but Mark Henderson!
What the hell is he doing now?
I ducked backward, out of sight from the office and peered at Mark. He put down a figurine of a bagpiper. Then he leaned over Ms. Moneypenny’s computer and, a few minutes later, I saw him leave. Slowly, I resumed my course, fretting about his latest antics, only to see the announcements board change as I passed in front of it. It now displayed a single message in large all-caps:
ELLEN LLYWELYN IS A DUDE!!!
I gasped, but made myself calm down and do what a girl probably would. With a straight face, but my heart gunning, I stared at it with a puzzled expression, shook my head at it, and walked away. Just in case anyone was within earshot, I muttered, “Picking on the new girl, I guess! Oh well!”
The study hall room was across from the girls’ restroom, so I decided to use it. After I finished my business, I self-checked at the sink. I had just noticed that my elastic hair band had slipped when two girls came in, giggling and talking in front of the mirror. I didn’t feel much like chatting, but I had to act normal. I smiled and greeted them, fussing over my hair at the mirror.
“Can’t they make elastic bands that stay put?” I joked, adjusting my hair. “I’m Ellen, by the way.”
“Hi, I’m Annabelle.”
“I’m Sarah.” Then she gasped. “Oh, wait, Ellen Llywelyn? You’re the new girl whose name got put on the announcements board!! What’s that about??”
A real girl would have no idea what the hell it’s about.
I shrugged. “Oh, damned if I know!” Well, I did know that, in fact, I was a dude, at least according to my legal documents, but I did not know why Mark Henderson was so intent on destroying me, so it was a partial truth. “Ah well. I guess it’s just hazing the new girl, huh?” I tittered, rolling my eyes. “Does that happen to all the new girls here?”
“Um… no.” They exchanged glances and shrugged.
“Oh.” Pause. “Well, I guess the school clowns have to try something new eventually, right?”
“Yeah, I guess. They probably got the idea from this kid who graduated at the end of last year who really was transgender.”
“Oh. That explains it.” Suddenly, I realize how lucky I am that there was a recent transgender student here because that’s exactly what people will think it’s all about! Okay, time to end this conversation while it’s still nice and friendly. “Well, nice meeting you two, but we’d better get going!”
“Yeah! I don’t advise being late around here!” Sarah rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, we’re surrounded with time fascists!” Annabelle laughed.
A short walk later, I arrived at the study hall room. I was looking forward to some peace and quiet, but when I walked into the room, what I saw on the marker board made me stop dead.
ELLEN LLYWELYN IS A DUDE!!!
Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me with this!!! Okay, quick, what would a born girl do? She’d assume they must be messing with the new girl because what else could it possibly be? She would know it was false!
With a wide-eyed, quizzical look, I shrugged, muttering something about being the new girl, and going to a weird school. Then I sat down in silence. I wanted to report Mark Henderson for being behind the receptionist’s desk just before the latest prank message was displayed on the announcements board, but I didn’t have time. I would do it at the end of the period when I found Shannon.
Just then, the study hall proctor walked in. “Hello! Oh, we have a new student. I’m Mr. Andrews, the drama teacher, though right now, I’m the study hall proctor,” he chuckled before he fell silent upon seeing the board. “What? Here, too? Alright, who wrote this message?”
Nobody spoke.
“Well, did anyone see who did?”
“No, sir. It was already up on the board when I got here.” I glanced at the others, who only nodded their heads. I didn’t think they knew who did it any more than I did, because the author of that message would have been long gone before anyone saw him.
It’s got to be Mark Henderson or someone he put up to it!
“Well, this is a disgrace! We can’t have this… this… graffiti on the marker boards! This is a place of learning!” He grabbed the eraser and cleaned off the message, much to my relief.
He’s so reverent! It’s like he’s in church. Is he going to genuflect now? Maybe burn some frankincense?
“Miss Llywelyn, you wouldn’t, erm… have any idea what that graffiti is supposed to mean, would you? It was displayed on the announcements board in the lobby as well, I’m afraid.”
“Erm, well… one of the other girls was saying that someone got the idea from that transgender girl who graduated at the end of last year? I assume it’s just some kind of practical joke on the new girl.” I shrugged.
“Hmmm. But you’re hardly the only new student, are you? There’s the new 9th grader and the two new 7th graders – not to mention the entire sixth grade class. So why have they chosen you?” He probed.
“I don’t know, sir.” I replied. I honestly don’t. I never did know why he hates me - unless he just hates people like me. Thank my lucky stars he’s probably avoiding anything physical since this school would come down on him in half a second.
“Alright then,” Mr. Andrews sighed. “Study time begins now.”
With that, the room was quiet. Mr. Andrews pulled out his cellphone and sent a text message. I spent the time trying to concentrate on my homework to get a good head start on it, but my mind was preoccupied with this hostile campaign against me that was playing out on the school’s walls like muckraking billboards.
You’d think we’re running for office! God, I hope this doesn’t get any worse. Well… I guess this whole thing is starting to catch up with me. God only knows what’s going to happen next! Obviously, Mark knows my schedule now… because he would have looked it up when he changed the announcements board again. Of course.
At the end of the period, I collected my things, grateful to have avoided detention so that I wouldn’t miss my ride home. I had just finished when I felt my phone vibrate.
That’s Meg picking me up! She must be waiting out front.
I grabbed my phone and noticed that I had missed two messages.
Meg: Hey, bro! I’m here! Don’t see you!
Meg: Hold up - Mom and Dad are coming to you. Told me to go on to work. What’s up???
Alan: Hey, sis! You won’t believe it. School thinks I’m a girl named Ellen!
Meg: WTF??? How???
Alan: Mark Henderson. He goes here. Changed my records.
Meg: Ugh! Little SHIT! Bad day?
Alan: Actually no! Made great new friend!
Alan: Wearing girl uniform though!
Alan: Have to explain later.
Meg: No way! I don’t believe you!
At that moment, as I rolled my eyes, Shannon strolled in. “Ellen! There you are!”
“I’m glad you’re here.” I brought her up to date on Mark Henderson’s latest shenanigans, careful to seem confused about the motivation in front of Mr. Andrews, at least for now.
“Ugh!” She commiserated.
“Mr. Andrews, would you please do me a favor and take a picture of us? My sister wants to see a photo of my new uniform.” I smiled, holding out my phone.
“Certainly,” he volunteered.
Shannon and I stood against the front wall of the classroom and he took the photo. Handing back my phone, he attempted to speak with Shannon. “Erm, Miss McGuire,” Mr. Andrews addressed her.
Shannon was distracted as I forwarded the photo to my sister.
Meg: OMG!!! Cutie!!! Do I have a little sis? <3 <3 <3
Alan: Yes, I think you do.
Meg: Squeeeee!!!! <3 <3 <3
Alan: Thanks, but LET ME TELL MOM AND DAD!
Meg: K! Gotta Go! Love U! <3 <3 <3
Alan: Love U too! <3 <3 <3
Wow, I’ve never typed hearts before - and I have GOT to change my name on my phone to Ellen! That was awkward!
Shannon squeezed my shoulder with a big smile on her face and then threw her arms around me, making my soul light up. “She accepts you,” she whispered.
“Oh, she would,” I responded in kind.
“Miss McGuire?” Mr. Andrews tried again.
“Want to see a pic of her?” I giggled.
“Yes!” She bobbed.
“Okay!” I fiddled on my phone and brought up a good picture of my sister from the waist up, complete with long, bright blue hair done in a pony tail that revealed the buzzed undercut around the back from ear to ear. Her nose ring twinkled as the piece-de-resistance.
Shannon burst out laughing. “Oh, yeah!”
“Yup!” I giggled. “She’s, erm, in a different school!”
“Miss McGuire!” Mr. Andrews persisted, becoming impatient. “Miss McGuire, do you know anything about this prank business perpetrated in my study hall – and in the lobby, for that matter?” Mr. Andrews interrogated.
Surprised, she stared at him in wonder. “No sir, not a thing… well, nothing that I could prove. We were just about to go to Reception to tell them what we suspect—”
“—and what I witnessed in the lobby on my way to study hall, too,” I added.
“Indeed? Well, I think it’s time that we visit Reception. Shall we?” He gestured for the door and we left the classroom. Since we were passing right by it, I stopped by my locker to grab my homework books and my other uniforms. With that done, we were off.
As we approached Reception, the Head Teacher stepped out of the office. “Oh, hello, Mr. Andrews.”
“Hello, Mr. McGonagall. I believe we have some information for you regarding the day’s shenanigans, including a duplicate of the message on the announcements board written prominently on my marker board.”
“Oh, really? This is getting infuriating.” He moved toward his office. “Please, come in and sit down, won’t you?” He stood before his door and beckoned us in with a flourish.
Once we were seated, he got the conversation started. “So our unidentified scoundrel wrote out the same message on your marker board, Mr. Andrews?”
“Yes, in large letters I could have read down the hall.”
“And nobody saw who wrote it?”
“No, Sir, but young Miss Llywelyn witnessed something of interest in the lobby just before the announcements board changed this afternoon.”
“Oh? Do tell. Please!” Mr. McGonagall turned to me.
“Yes sir. I was on my way to the restroom, just before study hall, when I looked into Reception and saw Mark Henderson standing behind Ms. Moneypenny’s desk and leaning over her computer. As I watched, he picked up her figurine, the man skirling the bagpipes. He looked at the bottom of it and then he used the computer, so I’m guessing that she keeps her password taped to the bottom of it. Anyway, then he left the office, and five seconds later, the board changed to display the message about me.”
“I see,” he growled. “I knew he’d been up to no good but I didn’t have enough facts… until now. Thank you so much for coming forward. You have solved this problem for me.”
“Really?” I hadn’t thought my testimony alone would have condemned him.
“Yes. You see, there was another witness, someone who walked by the office and also saw him behind Ms. Moneypenny’s desk, facing her computer. She must have walked by moments before you did. Only she didn’t stop and watch.”
“I guess not, Sir.”
“But the important thing is that it is not just your word, Miss Llywelyn! And Miss McGuire, you mentioned something about what the two of you suspected?”
“Yes, Sir.” Shannon responded. “It turns out that Mark Henderson and Ellen know each other from California and they don’t get along. Ellen, you’d better fill them in.”
“Yes.” I cleared my throat, hoping I wasn’t about to get thrown out of the school for wearing a girl’s uniform all day long. “When I got here, this morning, it was clear that my records had been unexpectedly changed. I was handed a girl’s uniform to wear and when Ms. Deere made my ID, the name on it was Ellen and the gender was Female.”
“Oh? Is that, uh, information in error?” queried Mr. McGonagall.
“Well, yes and no. It’s accurate, but it’s not what’s on my legal documents. You see, I’m a transgender girl. I wasn’t sure of that until today. When all of this happened and I ended up going to classes as a girl for the day, well, it was much more comfortable this way. Everything is easier – well, socially – and everything makes so much more sense.” I admitted, sure that I was now trembling.
“Indeed! So you are a girl, then?” Mr. McGonagall marveled. I got the sense that he was testing me, so I blurted, “Yes, sir. That’s right. I want to keep coming to school this way.”
With that, he touched a button on his speaker phone and asked Ms. Moneypenny to look up my records, using the feminine name. However, she rushed in a minute later, perplexed and scrolling on her iPad.
Uh oh. I don’t like this!
“Oh, dear, Sir! I-I don’t understand. We only have records for an Alan Llywelyn, a boy, who also started today. Oh, my, what is going on around here?”
That dirty, rotten, son of a bitch changed it all back when he was messing with the announcements board! He’s trying to cover his tracks!
“Well, this is very troubling!” Mr. McGonagall was becoming irate, even slightly red in the face. He took a breath. “Miss Llywelyn-- well, I suppose I will call you that for now, as this is not a court of law, erm-- I don’t suppose you can verify this… this… this alleged problem with the records?”
Alleged, my ass!!! But how do I prove it now?!
Suddenly I knew! “Yes, Sir! I can!”
I dug through my backpack and found my student ID, which I handed to Mr. McGonagall. After a quick examination, he returned it.
“And, Mr. Andrews, you’ve been addressing me as Miss Llywelyn, right? Where did you see the name?”
“Excellent question!” He realized. “Now that you mention it, I printed out the list of study hall students, oh, ten minutes before the study hall began – which makes it before Mister Henderson last accessed the school records! Now, where did I put that… ah! Here we are!” He pulled out his printout and handed it to Mr. McGonagall.
“This does, indeed, have Ellen Llywelyn listed. So it seems that your records were, in fact, tampered with. Well, thanks to you – and our other witness – we now know who that someone is!” He dragged an angry hand down the lower half of his face.
“Mark Henderson is finished at this school,” he continued. “This simply will not be tolerated. As soon as we conclude this meeting I will see to it.”
“Oh, I’ve forgotten, Sir! Miss Llywelyn, you and Miss McGuire left a message earlier for Mrs. Turing about the prank at, erm, 11AM in the Computer Science lab as well… and I see she’s not checked her messages yet.” Ms. Moneypenny mentioned, still fighting with her iPad, sighing in frustration.
“That’s right, Sir. Shannon and I both saw Mark Henderson leave the lab just before that class began.”
“And I’m sure he is not in that class,” fumed Mr. McGonagall.
“No, Sir.” I confirmed with malicious compliance, making Shannon smirk.
“Well, he is done!” He took a satisfied sigh knowing that one looming issue was resolved. “Alright then, our next order of business is you, Miss Llywelyn.” He checked the time on his computer monitor. “Now, you have not done anything wrong. Given that you were enrolled as a girl, it would have been difficult to believe any attempt to report the error in the records, as you do make a convincing girl, if I may say so. You would almost certainly have been told that wearing trousers was against the rules for you. I can certainly see how you felt you had no recourse. I am sorry for this… colossal mess that has had you attending school in a girl’s uniform all day long – and may I say that I’m relieved to hear that you are a girl and actually benefitting from it!”
“You may, Sir!” I smiled.
“At any rate, most of this school believes you to be a girl, I take it?” he inquired.
“Yes, Sir. The only sign I have seen, all day, of anyone thinking any differently would be the four boys who deliberately addressed me as ‘dude’ and ‘he.’”
“Really? Any idea what brought that on?”
“Well, I wanted to find out more about that after two boys in Math class called me ‘dude’, so Shannon and I struck up a conversation with the girl who's dating one of them, that being Edward Tiffany. Anyway, Shannon asked if James Tiffany, Edward's brother, is a friend of Mark Henderson’s and Bethany told us that they are good friends.” I finished with a wry smile. Just then, Ms. Moneypenny left the room, as though deciding that the conversation no longer had any relevance for her.
“Aha. The pieces fall into place.” Mr. McGonagall’s face was reddening for the second time. “Everywhere we look, we find Mister Mark Henderson. Well, it’s like I said, he is positively--”
“Excuse me, Sir. The parents are here.”
Parents? My parents! God, I forgot! I stiffened as I turned around.
“Mom! Dad!”
“Hi sweetie,” she murmured, looking me up and down. “Well, I always knew there was something about you…” she trailed off before continuing. “I-I just didn’t know it was this!” She smiled, at least.
My father had been standing there with his mouth open, but he finally spoke. “Neither did I,” he marveled. “I guess, uh…” he cleared his throat. “I guess it explains why you haven’t wanted your hair cut, eh?”
“Yeah, Dad.” What do you know? That really is the reason. It was partly because my body is mine, and I want that respected, but… I didn’t realize why that’s so important to me until now!
“You mentioned over the phone a mixup with… with… erm, my child’s records?” He stammered.
He doesn’t want to say ‘her?’ Oh no.
“Yes. I’m afraid we’ve had quite the prankster on our hands – who is now finished at this institution, please let me reassure you.” Mr. McGonagall growled, absently straightening his tie as though it would put the school back in order. My parents sat through all of the day’s events, nearly as angry at their perpetrator as Mr. McGonagall.
“So, erm… what is the protocol for, erm… adjusting the records back to… female now,” my mother inquired with a shrug, “and for, erm… Ellen’s attendance here. I mean… o-obviously this has not come about in the usual way.”
“No, this is a most unusual case. As a matter of fact, it puts the school in an awkward position. You see, normally, the student would not come out as transgender or attend classes as a girl until a doctor verified that it is time for that, but in this case, we have begun with nearly all of the school believing that Ellen is a girl in the first place. If she were to show up tomorrow as a boy, we would be forcing her to out herself as a boy who spent an entire day in a skirt - well, biologically a boy,” he reassured me with a glance, “only for her return to being a girl… and… likely to be outed again as transgender. Imagine the disruption in classes! Alternatively, if we simply allow her to continue as a girl, we’ll have little or no distraction in the classroom and she will certainly have far fewer problems that way. It’s better for the school and no doubt it’s preferable for you, Miss Llywelyn.”
“Yes, it is,” I confirmed. “Very much.”
“Hmmm. Yes, that does make a great deal of sense,” my father acknowledged. “Although, I imagine that a doctor’s note is required, and we don’t have one… because we have yet to see a doctor about this, although,” he glanced at my mother, “let’s certainly do that soon!”
“Yes, that is the one thing preventing us from making an easy decision that Ellen should attend as a girl. To fully resolve this situation, we will indeed need that doctor’s note. Here’s what I can do. Make an immediate appointment for a consultation as to whether investigation into Ellen’s gender is indicated – and I can not imagine it turning out any other way,” he reassured me, “and have that doctor send in a letter acknowledging that such inquiry is medically indicated and underway. We’ll keep that as a preliminary doctor’s note and as documentation that a doctor is involved. Then, when you do receive the official doctor’s letter, we will update our records with that one. Meanwhile, Ms. Moneypenny, please change the records back to reflect Miss Ellen Llywelyn, as she already has a feminine ID and I’m sure it won’t be long – and besides, we can show that she is enrolled as a girl if there are any problems.”
“Right away, Sir!” Ms. Moneypenny smiled and turned to do as requested.
“Now, erm… w-what about exercise? I-I mean the locker rooms…” my mother began.
“Oh, I already chose home exercise and, since I have an ID made for a girl named Ellen, it went through without any problem.” I mollified.
“Yes, you see, the records are normally only changed once we receive that official doctor’s letter. Thus, our gym staff would have believed that Ellen’s attendance as a girl was already approved – which it is.”
“I understand.” My mother nodded. “So, Ellen,” she turned to me. “Why didn’t you say something when you were handed the girl’s uniform this morning?”
“Well, there was no time! If you’re late to class, you get detention. Besides, my records showed that I’m a girl named Ellen and I didn’t think they’d believe me if I tried to tell them there was a mistake. Plus, as Mr. McGonagall confirmed earlier, I would have been told that wearing trousers was against the rules for a girl!”
“Oh, I see. You really couldn’t win, could you?” She agreed.
“I certainly don’t see how,” my father agreed. “Well, the only question I have left is whether you know who changed the records and did all of this?” he queried.
“It was Mark Henderson, Dad!” I told him.
“Mark Henderson?! You mean the same little punk from your old school in California? He’s here??” My father stared at me.
“He was until today, yes.” I smiled at Mr. McGonagall, who couldn’t help but smile back.
“Yes, his time here is at an end.” He confirmed.
“Well.” My father took a deep breath. “It’s too bad that we had to find out about you as a result of that damned Mark Henderson’s antics, but we are glad to know so that we can do whatever we need to do to help you through this. You know that we love you, right?” He smiled.
“Yeah, Daddy.” I reached out and hugged him. “Two girls, now, Gwen!” he chuckled to my mother, who merely smiled.
“How do you want to tell Meg, honey?” she evaded, looking back to me.
“Oh, she texted me when she got here and I gave her the short version – oh, and a pic. She’s excited to have a sister!” I grinned.
“Well, I think we’ll fill her in properly when she gets home and we can all relax… and I can have a glass of wine,” Mom chuckled.
“Well, I suppose that everything is as settled as it can get for now, so we won’t take any more of your time,” my father stood. “Sorry about your bad day at the office,” he joked as he reached to shake hands.
“Well, the hoodlum is no longer a problem and the rest of it has ended well enough, so I feel much better!” Mr. McGonagall declared as he returned the gesture.
I wondered what a girl was supposed to do to be polite, but my mother stood to leave, so I followed her lead. Realizing that I hadn’t seen Shannon in a bit, I glanced around the room but she had left. Wasn’t she going to say goodbye? My heart sank. Well, maybe she’s waiting outside politely. At least, I hope she has time.
“Alright, my daughter. Let’s get you home!” My mother smiled, putting an arm around me. As we stepped out of the office. Shannon stood up from a couch in the nearby lounge and came over timidly, clearly worried about how it had all turned out. I checked our surroundings for onlookers but thankfully the place was empty, save for a couple of kids halfway down the hall.
“Everything’s okay. Mark Henderson is done here and I’ll be coming to school as a girl.” I told her, before hugging her tightly and then introducing her to my parents.
“You’ve made a friend already! That’s wonderful.” Mother beamed.
Turning to Shannon, I explained, “She means that it’s kind of a first. I never really fit in before… and now I think I probably know why. It’s starting to make sense.”
Shannon nodded with a knowing look.
“Well, give us until the weekend, but uh… I think we should have a celebratory dinner and you’re invited, Shannon!” My mother suggested, looking to my father for his input.
He nodded with enthusiasm. “Yes, I think that’s a wonderful idea! I know that we… all… have adjusting to do with this big news, but it’s good news,” he looked to me to reassure me, “and it should be celebrated.”
“I’ll be there!” Shannon grinned. “It sounds great!”
With that, we walked out of the school and I stepped into my new future.
Comments
Oh wow!
What a way to have your entire life of discomfort, awkwardness, and social-anxiety be thrown in front of your eyes and almost forced to be recognized. At least it ended on a high note, which is sweet!
- Leona
Shenanigans Indeed
What a clever story with a very resourceful heroine. I love the plot with Ellen adapting and making the best of an awkward situation. Bullies like Mark Henderson like to think the world revolves around them and usually are sneaky enough to avoid detection. This story certainly brought a smile to my face, MonaLisa. Thank you for sharing! :DD
DeeDee
Cleverly done
Enjoyed this a lot. Thanks!
>>> Kay
You're welcome...
...and thank you!
Mona Lisa
fantastic story
once again, random solos comes through with an excellent story!