If I Was Your Girl(54)

“Well, that’s over tonight. Callie’s had two abortions!” she cried, pointing at a heavyset girl near the stage. “Austin’s a fag!” she declared, turning to point at a shaggy-haired boy I didn’t know standing by himself near the punch.

People were beginning to whisper. People were beginning to look afraid.

Bee started looking around the gym rapid-fire. “Fucking the science teacher! Drug dealer!”

Her finger landed on Chloe, who glanced up and scowled when she heard her name. “Dyke!” Bee cried. The chaperone had been slowed by the crush of people near the stage but he was close now, just a few yards from the stairs. Bee pointed at herself and yelled, “Queer! Slut!”

And then she pointed at me.

“But I saved the best for last, y’all,” she said. “Look at our homecoming queen. Ain’t she sweet? Ain’t she beautiful? She’s livin’ the dream, right? I bet a lot of you guys’ve thought about her in the shower. Smart, pretty, but not pushy or intimidating … she’s everything this f*cked-up place wants a girl to be.” The chaperone was mounting the steps. I couldn’t stop shaking. Grant held me close and in that moment I loved him so much. “But guys, guess what: She’s a he!” The crowd went silent, the only noise the sound of the scuffle as the chaperone finally made it to the stage and grabbed the mike from Bee.

A few people looked confused, but most laughed it off. As eyes turned to me I realized my hands were shaking. People started whispering to each other. Grant looked over at me, seeming unfazed by what he assumed was some kind of bizarre prank, and then he saw the haunted look on my face.

“Oh my God,” Grant said as the realization dawned on him, a look of absolute confusion and horror in his eyes. I wanted to say something, to pause and give us time, to stop the next few minutes from happening like I knew they would, but I couldn’t.

I ran.





27

“Amanda, wait!” Grant said. I barely even registered that I was hearing him until he grabbed my arm and stopped me just short of the gym’s double doors. I struggled for a moment and then turned to face him.

“It’s not true, right?” Grant said, letting go of my arm. “It’s just a prank you two came up with when y’all were stoned?”

“You promised you wouldn’t ever hate me,” I whispered, looking at his chest. Somehow that seemed to be enough of an answer for him. Muscles in his jaw jumped and twitched and I could actually hear the grinding of his teeth. “You promised you’d never regret being with me.”

“What?” Grant said, stepping forward. I stepped back and nearly stumbled, feeling sick to my stomach. Tears welled in his eyes. “You’re a boy? I remember what I f*cking said, but how can you be a boy?”

“I’m not,” I said, my voice still low and soft, and for the first time I noticed the crowd behind us, listening intently. “I was…” I swallowed. “I was born a boy.” We were both quiet for a moment.

“What?” Grant said, his voice rising. “What does that mean? Do you … do you have a penis?”

“Do I?” I croaked. “I feel like you would’ve noticed.”

“I don’t know how this shit works,” Grant said, his shoulders sagging, “and you keep giving me half answers. Do you have one or not?”

“What’s it matter?” I snapped, finally meeting his gaze. Now it was his turn to back away from me. “What’s between my legs is officially not your business anymore, right?”

“Okay,” Grant said, and my heart broke when he didn’t argue. “But what’s that say about me then? Does that—” He took a breath and slowed down, saying, “Does this make me gay?”

“No,” I said quietly. “How nice for you.”

He noticed the people gathered around us for the first time and his face went pale. He started to say something else but I just shook my head. I wanted to be alone, in the quiet, perhaps on the wet grass outside so I could stare up at the autumn sky and lie down and feel nothing until eventually my body slipped into the earth and nothing became everything.

I turned to face the crowd. Some of them had their hands over their mouths, eyebrows floating high on their foreheads. They were all staring silently, my friends included. I realized I was still wearing the tiara Layla had hooked into my hair and I unwound it. Up close, it looked tacky and cheap and stupid.

“Here,” I said, tossing the tiara so that it skittered to a stop at Layla’s feet. She stooped and picked it up, looking from the crown back to me slowly. “I guess I’m disqualified.”

I turned before anyone could say anything and hurried out of the school and into the night.





28

I ran down the side of the highway as if possessed. My feelings were pouring off of me like sweat, like the color sloughing off a painting drenched in turpentine. A semi honked loudly as it thundered by. I cried out in surprise and tumbled to the ground, twisting my ankle. My vision swam from the pain but I took my heels off, stood up, and kept limping.

My feet were freezing and my ankle throbbed every time I put my weight on it. I looked up and saw the stars wheeling overhead, absolutely clear and present in air this cold, this far from light pollution. Last time I had come this way the heat had nearly beaten me, and the overgrown weeds had lashed at my calves while the cicadas watched and screamed, but now the cold was seeping into my feet and the wet was clinging to my dress and the stars were watching, disinterested.