Understood

Synopsis: Ben and Ari bond over the lack of understanding from their peers.

Dysphoria crept in with malicious intent as I sat at the back of class. I normally loved science, but paying attention was impossible when the boys beside me were mouthing slurs and snapping scissors behind my ear.

"Miss Li, pay attention," the teacher said suddenly. "Sorry; Mr. Li."

The whole class snickered as I hid behind my textbook. I thought that coming out of the closet was going to help, that it would make people see me for who I really was, but it had the opposite effect; everyone still made a point to misgender me. Except my friend Will, of course. He was actually really excited when I told him I was trans, because it meant he finally had a guy friend his age. But the rest of the school seemed to think I was confused, or craving attention, as if my neurodivergence hadn’t outcasted me enough.

I kept my chin up for the rest of class, but with this massive headache coming on, there was no room in my brain for me to remember the lesson. The pressure built up so much I was tempted to run to the bathroom and rip off the two sports bras I had layered on top of each other, but that would only fix my breathing.

As I headed to my next period, I stopped by my locker. Will approached me and immediately started gushing about something related to comic books, but I couldn’t hear a word he said. 

"Hey man, you okay?" Will asked, snapping me back into reality. 

"Oh—yeah. Fine. Sorry. What were you saying?"

Will told me all about the new game he just bought as we walked to our next class together. I’d normally be sharing his excitement, but my mind was still elsewhere. 

"You free tonight? We can play after school—Ben? You’re not even listening!”

“Hmm?”

“Seriously, Ben. What's going on with you?"

"Nothing, nothing. I'm just not feeling too good.” I pulled my shirt out in front of me.

He didn’t get the hint. “You overstimulated?”

I shook my head. “Not yet, anyway.”

"Do you need to see the nurse?"

"No, I’m okay. Really. I'll just... suffer through it."

I said that last part with a fake laugh, trying to make this a joke, because that's exactly what I felt like. One big gender-bending joke.

"I forgot something," I told Will just before we entered the classroom. "I'll meet you inside."

"Oh, okay. Hurry back, dude." 

I nodded and turned around to head in the direction we just came, but instead of stopping at my locker, I walked right past it, and slipped into the stairwell. At the top of the stairs, I pulled out the piece of plywood that I wedged in the doorframe to keep the lock from clicking, and stepped out onto the roof.

The late summer air was thick and hot. The leaves were now just turning red, complementing the bricks I was standing on. I came across a soccer ball that had been kicked up here by accident, and gave it a nudge so I could watch it roll off the edge of the building.

I followed the ball to the ledge and swung my legs over the side. Nobody was out in the courtyard, and it was lovely. There was peace and quiet and calm… and space for the thoughts to creep back in.

I wondered if Will actually saw me as a boy or if he was just pretending. I had always gone by Ben—Bernadette never really suited me—so all he had to do was call me he. But was he doing it just to make me happy? Sure, my hair was short and my chest was bound but I didn’t have what most people would call a boy’s body. I did have a boy’s body, because it was my body and I was a boy, but the rest of the world insisted I didn’t because “nothing physically separated me” from all the girls my age. I didn’t hate my body, though. Not really. I just couldn’t stomach people making false assumptions about me because of it.

"What’re you doing?" 

I turned to see one of my classmates. She was new to the school, and mostly kept to herself. We hadn't even had a conversation before.

"Trying to steal my hideout, are you?" she asked, dropping her bag near the door.

"No, I'm just... escaping."

"Ah. Fine, I guess I can share."

I rolled my eyes. "Share? I've been coming here longer than you've been at this school."

"Huh. Fair enough." 

I sat silently as my classmate walked over and lied down next to the building’s edge. She closed her eyes for a minute, also taking in the peaceful fresh air.

"I'm Ari, by the way," she said finally.

"Oh, um. Ben. My name’s Ben.”

"Cool. Pronouns?"

"What?"

"You know, like he, she, they—"

"I know, I’ve just never been asked that before."

Ari frowned. "Well, that sucks. I use she/they.”

I nodded. "He/him."

"Nice. Can I call you that in front of other people?"

“Yeah, I already came out.” I pulled my legs in and hugged my knees. "But everyone still thinks I’m a girl.”

"Seriously? What a bunch of assholes."

I didn’t respond.

Ari tilted their head. “Something wrong?”

“No,” I said, but Ari continued to stare. I scratched my thumb. “I guess I just… I understand why they think it.”

My new friend raised an eyebrow. They patiently waited for me to elaborate, even though it took me much longer than expected to find the words.

“I don’t look like I’m a boy. I don’t sound like it, either. So I can’t expect people to see me as one,” I said. “Or at least, that’s what my parents say.”

“Being a boy has nothing to do with—”

“Don’t give me that ‘appearance doesn’t matter’ bullshit. I know it doesn’t. I like how I look, and I don’t wanna change, but because of this ridiculously unnecessary social construct, I’ll never be perceived as a guy. Not like this.”

“So?”

“What do you mean so?”

“So what if nobody sees you as a guy? You are one. If other people can’t get behind that then it’s their problem, not yours.”

But the problem is their problem is causing my problem, I almost said. “This isn’t really helping.”

“Sorry. I’m not great with advice. But I know it sucks being seen as something you’re not.”

“Yeah,” I whispered. “Feels like your skin is eating itself.”

Ari put a hand to her chin. “You know what? Eating sounds like a good idea.”

“Huh?”

They pulled their feet in and stood up. “Let’s ditch class and go find some fries.”

“What?”

With a roll of their wrist, they offered me their hand. “My good sir.”

“Ari—”

“No, seriously. I’m hungry, dude. And you’re a growing boy so I’m sure you’re hungry, too.”

I couldn’t argue with that. I took their hand, and once I was standing, they dragged me down the stairs and out the front doors. 

It felt good to be understood.