You're Not Broken

Content Warning: Panic Attack

Ademide had been in the bathroom a little too long. It was odd that Ade had gone to the bathroom at all; my friend hated public restrooms enough to suffer with a full bladder every single school day. I’d always assumed it was a rich kid thing.

I decided I should go check that everything was okay, but I wasn't sure how I was supposed to get out of class without raising suspicion. With Ademide using the hall pass, the teacher wouldn’t let me go, so I just waited for an opportunity to slip out the back door of the classroom without being noticed.

"Ademide?" I called as I entered the bathroom. "You in here?"

The urinals were unoccupied, and all the stalls were empty. I walked to the other side of the room, and pushed open the heavy door into the gymnasium. Our school really should have gotten itself a locker room, but nobody used the gym enough to warrant building one. I called out Ademide’s name again, but still no answer.

And that's when I heard it. Faint, unstable gasps coming from the corner of the big room. I rushed over to see Ademide sitting under the bleachers, arms wrapped around shins, crying softly.

"Ade?” I asked. "What's going on?"

Ademide kept gulping for air, unable to get a word out.

"Hey, hey. Chill. Breathe in slowly... and then back out."

We did that a few more times, which got the tears to stop, but not the shaking.

"I don't think... I don't think I'm a boy," Ademide choked out. They hugged themself tighter and dug their forehead into their knees.

"What?"

"I'm not... I think there's something wrong with me, Liam."

"No, no!" I said. "There's nothing wrong with you."

Ademide turned their head. "But something feels wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know.” Their voice cracked. "I've always been broken. I just didn't know why until last night."

"Hey, hey. Look at me. You're not broken. You're just different, maybe. And there's nothing wrong with being different."

They shook their head. 

“You know my sister?” I said. “She named herself Lucy after a pile of bones. Because, just like that old fossil,  she wants to be remembered. She wants to leave a mark. And she’s going to do that by being different.”

“I don’t really care if I’m remembered,” Ademide whispered. "I just can't pretend anymore, Liam. I can't."

Those words shook my heart. I’d heard them before from other friends of mine, but they still felt just as excruciating every single time.

"Do you want to change your pronouns?"

Ademide froze. "N-no."

I had a hunch that was a lie. "Why not?"

"I can't. If my parents find out..."

"They don’t have to. Not right now."

They swallowed slowly. Then, in the most careful of whispers, barely breaking the silence, spoke their truth.

"I like my name, but I was thinking they/them? Or maybe... they/she? I don't really know what I am." Their voice got quieter with every word.

"That's okay! We'll try out whatever pronouns you want and see how you like them.”

Ademide smiled through the agony, the sparkle returning to their eyes as they wiped away their last remaining tears. I stood up and offered Ademide my hand. She took it, and I led them back to class. Before making it into the hallway, she stopped at the end of the lockers.

"Thank you," they said, turning their head.

"What for?"

They looked confused. "For... accepting me, I guess?"

"Don't you dare thank me. You deserve much more than just acceptance."

"Okay, then. Thank you for—”

"Stop it," I said, swatting her. "It’s the bare minimum. No more thanking people."