Authors: Kristin Elizabeth Clark
          My door slams open
          a hallway shriek,
          night-terror eyes wild
          hair sticking out.
My heart explodes
like it did
that night
in the graveyard.
Courtney's too freaked
by whatever monster
she's seen
to notice my girlish yell
          or the pills
          on my nightstand.
I'm Leading Her
back to her room
when Mom sticks
her head out.
“Nightmare,” I say.
“I've got it.”
            “Are you sure?” She yawns,
            clearly hoping to go back to bed.
My throat closes; that's it.
I
will
be Little Mother.
In the pretty pink
princess palace.
I sit with my baby sister
waiting for her to sleep,
heart squeezing,
folding, turning over.
Courtney
could be the one
to find me dead.
What would that do?
What would
her tomorrow look like?
And the tomorrows
after that?
How messed up
would she be?
The little-kid
memory
of touching
poking
prodding
my lifeless body?
Not Dying
isn't the same as
choosing to live,
not right away.
In the bathroom
I pee sitting down,
thinking about it.
Go to the beach?
Would the   Â
i m p u l s e
to throw my body into
night-blackened water
outlast my bio-instinct
to breathe?
Would this body struggle
against my own intention
mind, soul, body connection   Â
d e n i e d
?
Would I care who
found me, looking like
a bloated small seal,
a tuskless walrus?
As long as it wasn't Courtney?
What do humpbacks think
when they beach themselves
on land and people go to crazy efforts,
tugging them
pushing them
rolling them
back into the sea?
Afterward, do the whales
look back to shore, thinking,
           Â
I feel better nowâ
           Â
and there are
           Â
some humans
           Â
I need to
   Â
t h a n k
           Â
for disallowing my
           Â
self-destruction.
Or do they just
think,
Oh,
   Â
G o d,
I have to try, try again.
When I get into bed
I think maybe
I won't try
not right now anyway.
Instead
I call Angel
first thing in the morning
because
there has to be
a better way
to deal
with being me
and that
other option
will always
exist
if I need it.
We Meet Down at Mono Cove
Waves crash
sea spray
and
I come out
into sunshine
that almost hurts
my eyes.
We walk.
I talk.
Angel listens.
I tell her about that night.
“I don't know why I did it.”
And I don't, not for sure.
“Maybe I thought
the sound of breaking glass
would drown out
that word?”
She nods.
                    “Uncool,” she says.
                    “But I think I understand.”
Pauses.
          “You got freaked
          figuring out
          you're genderqueer.”
And even though
Angel says it quiet
the new word
bounces off the bluff
soft round sound
for such sharp edges.
          Queerbait.
Queer as a three-dollar bill.
          Smear the queer.
I consider
in silence.
Genderqueer.
The way
she says it
doesn't feel
like a put-down.
I slip it on over my head
stretch around
feel it on my skin
                                not male
          not female.
A gull wheels by,
swoops down,
pecks in the
tangled
seaweed.
It reminds me of
the grabby women
at the bra-and-panty table
in Girl World.
“I have no idea where I fit in.”
            She smiles. “You think
            you're the only one?”
“I'm just not ⦠flamboyant.”
            “Shit, it's not about
            how you dressâit's
            not even about your body parts.
            Uh-uhâit's about your soul.”
Maybe, maybe not.
My voice
is small in my ears.
“I'll feel like Freakboy
no matter where I go.”
She stops walking,
looks me in the eye.
          “Everyone feels like a freak
          until they make up their mind
          they're not.”
It's full confession time.
“I read about people who've known
forever they belong in a different body,
“but I'm not even always sure I'm trans.
“Sometimes, being a guy is ⦠not horrible.”
My shrug tightens,
my shoulders go round.
“Sometimes, it hurts more than anything.”
AÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â tortuous
back    and    forth.
“What's it even mean
that I'm never sure
either way?”
And really.
How can
you ever
get a grip
on THAT?
            “Lord knows,
            we don't need
            more labels,” she says.
But then
she gives me
two words
that push
            the
                      pieces
of
            the
puzzle together.
“Gender Fluid”
I study the phrase.
My soul a vapor
                    wafting
                                wafting
between male
and female.
I am
          everything
          and
          nothing
          but moist breath and soul.
We sit in the sand
backs against
the bluff
quiet
for a moment
just watching the waves
until a couple
          one man
          one woman
walk by us,
holding hands,
at ease.
          Vapor condenses
          falls to earth. Heavy.
“I just can't imagine what
my future could possibly look like.”
          “Only God knows what's in store!
          You could win the lottery or
          get hit by a bus.”
In spite of me
I almost smile.
“I'd rather win the lottery.”
                    “Only one thing's for sure,”
                    she says. “You will never,
                    EVER
                    beat me
                    at Mordock's Giant.”
And now I do smile.
A small thing
that feels good.
(Vanessa)
Teacher In-Service Day
means no school
but Brendan's not home.
            “Would you like to come in though?”
            his mom asks me.
She gestures on a cloud
of light perfume that
Grand-maman would appreciate.
I think of the way
Mrs. Chase traded in
one husband for another
and I realize
that Grand-maman's little lessons
are all about how to get a guy
but not about how to have a relationship
with anyone.
Even yourself.
Waiting Around
is not what I do best,
but I think
about Brendan
all alone.
He needs a friend.
I need a friend.
It's worth some time
with his mom.
Everything looks like
it did weeks ago.
I sit on the same old sofaâ
she offers the same old soda.
                          “We've missed you,”
                          she says.
The same old grandfather clock
ticks away the awkward minutes
but it all somehow feels different.
“I've been busy with
wrestling.”
                          “Oh, of course! I'm just
                          glad to see you.
                          Brendan's seemed a little
                          down lately.”
She's looking at me
with some expectation
in her eyes, like I can
tell her what's going on with him.
But I can't.
And I'm feeling weirded out,
so I make small talk
until I can politely leave.
At the door,
she surprises me
with a hug.
                        “I'm glad you came byâ
                        Brendan needs his friends.”
I head to my car
thinking that
of all the things
I'm good at,
wrestling,
ceramics,
even school,
being a friend
is not what I do best.
Not to Brendan.
Not to Julie.
Not to Tanya.
But I'm willing
to work on it.
With all of them.
(Angel)
We Go Back to Brendan's
and his girlfriend's
just comin' down the walk.
He seems surprised to see her.
            “Vanessa!”
            We just stand there
            looking at each other,
            till he remembers his manners.
            “This is Angel.”
            We shake hands
            like we're old people.
            “Courtney's new babysitter?”
            Her voice has an edge to it.
Brendan looks to me
for a second
like he wants to lie
but he straightens his shoulders.
            “I'm sorry, no.”
She nods once
turns to get in the car.
Brendan's face is so sad â¦
these two need to talk.
I was supposed to go in with him
get a game he was tellin' me about
but it can wait.
“I better get going.
I have a big date
with my boyfriend, Marcus,” I say.
Brendan's look,
pure gratitude
sunshine.
I Take the Bus to Willows
My heart starts beating
when I see Dr. M's in her office.
“You got a minute?” I ask.
She smiles, gestures me in.
It's warm today
and her blazer's slung
on the back of the chair. Even so,
she looks totally professional.
Someone you can look up to.
“I have an ethical dilemma,” I say,
and she raises her eyebrows.
I tell her about
the first time I met Brendan
when he got sick in the planter.
And she looks serious
when I tell her about how
he came into Willows
a few weeks later,
how I didn't think he'd come back,
and how I gave him my number again.
I tell her about going to his house,
borrowing his PS2.
I tell her about everything
except the window
because Brendan's
paying for it
and I've pretty much