All I Can See

I had only narrowly escaped a quadratics lesson. The halls were quiet in this part of school, under the stairs by the window, where I could avoid the eyes of other class-skippers.

"Hey."

I pulled myself out of my own head to see Oliver standing beside me, his arms folded over the skull on his graphic tee. The self-proclaimed drama king’s presence was a comfort, yet I still hugged my backpack closer to my chest.

“Saw you leave the classroom,” he said. “You doing okay?"

When I didn’t answer, Oliver slid down next to me. He knocked his knee against mine, and gave me an encouraging nod. "What's the matter?"

I didn't answer.

"Is it girl trouble?"

I scoffed. Of course that was his first guess. As a trans guy, my problems were often reduced to two things: dating and bathrooms.

At my bitterness, Oliver’s lips shrunk behind his upper teeth. “You didn’t get thrown out of a bathroom again, did you?"

Ha, called it. I sprung up sharply and slung my bag over my shoulder. I didn’t need this today. 

Before I could storm off, Oliver grabbed my arm. "Hey, wait—where are you going?"

I ripped my hand away. Every inch of my skin had a queasy stomach of its own; I didn’t need someone else’s touch aggravating the nausea any further.

Oliver stood up. “You’re scaring me, Noah.”

My weight shifted from left to right. Oliver waited patiently for me to speak, but the words never came.

“Are you… okay?” my friend asked. The cautiousness in his tone annoyed me. “Like, is everything good at home, or…?”

“Things are fine.” Wasn’t a lie. My transphobic mother hadn’t yelled at me for my clothing choices even once this week.

“But something’s wrong, right?”

I nodded.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I paused. "I don't think I know how.”

"Do you wanna try?"

Oliver took me to the bench by the window. He sat with his arm on my shoulder, which should have made me feel better, but it just added to the uneasiness. 

"I'm not sure you'll get it," I told him.

He raised an eyebrow, as if it were a challenge. "Try me."

I exhaled sharply. "Okay. Well. Miriam broke up with me.”

Oliver clicked his tongue. "Ah, so this is about a girl."

"No." I shook my head, already feeling like this was a bad idea. "It’s not about her. It’s about me.”

Oliver’s face morphed into the sly expression he always made when he was intrigued. "Care to elaborate?"

"Like I said, I don't think you'll get it."

He shrugged. "Maybe not. But even if I don't, talking about it might help."

He had a point. This wasn't something I could be open about to anyone, especially not my family, so I just kept it quiet. But maybe Oliver was right.

"Miriam broke up with me," I said again. "Because she doesn't like girls."

"But you're not a girl."

"That’s not how she sees it.”

“Don’t listen to her, Noah. She doesn't know anything.”

It felt good to hear my name in that moment, which might have been why my dysphoric fears left my lips before I could censor them.

“What if she’s right, though?”

“She’s not. You’re not a girl.”

I hunched over, pulling my shirt away from my chest. “I know, but… when I look in the mirror, that’s all I can see.”

“Noah.”

"I'm not very good at ignoring things," I admitted. "I'm always thinking about my voice. And my chest. And my body. All the time. There's nothing I can do about it though so I just have to pretend I feel okay but sometimes I just can't."

I closed my eyes and turned away from him. I could feel the vomit rising. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, I ordered myself. Don’t you dare cry.

"Noah."

I knew this was a terrible idea. I never should have opened up to him. First he sees all my terrifying thoughts and now he’s gonna see me barf.

"Noah, look at me."

I couldn't at first, but I could feel Oliver staring, so eventually, I brought my gaze back to him.

“You might see a girl in the mirror,” he said. “But trust me, all I can see is a man.”

“Yeah, right.” I rubbed the back of my neck to soothe the spiking hairs. “I don't even pass."

"Noah. You are the bravest guy I know," he said. "So what if you were born a little differently? You can wear a dress, wear make-up, grow your hair long... but you'll still be Noah. You'll still be a man. Besides, nobody is born a man, anyway. You have to become one. You have to grow up. And you're doing that with the rest of us."

He ruffled my hair, and I smiled for the first time all day.