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Chapter 57 - Myth Bustier

I might’ve reflected on her words a bit more, but Lea finally emerged from the tide of humanity with her hand raised high in a wave. She split through two amblers and wrapped her arms around me. Not a careful or lean-in hug but another exuberant, sunny one.

“Caught you!...Oh my gosh! That was the longest psych class. And I kinda got made into an experiment…by the teacher. She asked me many questions.”

Gently, I rubbed Lea’s shoulder and smiled back at her. Would Wes speak like this? Would he say Lea’s words with the same feeling? Did it matter? Did I care what anyone else thought about life, identity, people, change, the universe, or whatever? At that moment, all I cared about was the shining, bountiful smile that infected my face from hers.

We walked together slowly towards my last class as Lea gestured and explained, “Otherwise, it wasn’t that bad. I was actually able to talk to Emily, Nat’s friend. She let me explain things without freaking out.”

I offered a little bit of my class, but I focused on Tiffany’s story about her brother’s crazy ex-girlfriend. I also framed Sebastian’s story as, “He’s been through a lot, but he said that no matter how much it hurts and what it takes to get through a day, he just has to be…the person he knows he is.”

Lea brushed her hair back. She still had it out of the ponytail but held it together the same way as she encouraged, “We’ll make it through this day. It’ll be alright. More than alright. We’re gonna have our best last class of the week!”

In Lea’s case, it would be her only last class of the week, but I overlooked this part and cheered the sentiment. With one final, big hug, she bid me, “Awesome last class!” and headed off.

It was a little easier to get up the ramp to Tassinari even though the amount of energy I could muster was about the same.

Not even the blistering, chaotic feeling inside could inspire that much in me by proxy. Tassinari was in a starkly-black suit which looked more like a magician’s outfit, only missing a top hat. He sometimes dressed that way when something important was afoot. Had there been something announced yesterday? Probably, but I couldn’t kindle enough brain cells to recall.

Ben was in his usual spot and looked more jovial than the day before. He was laughing and saying something to some other guys with playful vehemence. I would’ve waved, but I didn’t want to interrupt his good mood somehow. I made my way over to the teacher.

“Kenzie! How are you today?” He inquired.

No one ever really wanted the honest answer, the one with all the details.

Today I was uncertain because my ex-boyfriend’s girlfriend swore she would take me down and put me away like some wild animal. That ex-boyfriend had turned into a cute girl who wondered if she was pretty. But I had no idea if that cute girl was legitimately the same person because I’d blasted them with some unknown energy when a shadow rat monster came a-creeping after them. I still saw plenty of these monsters and I wasn’t entirely sure if I was going mad or not. But, otherwise, a pleasant Friday.  

“I’m alright. Where do you need me?”

Even though it was back to the desk in the corner for most of the period, I did actually sit in the teacher’s chair for a bit. I could look on the computer. Not much interesting. Very few available programs. The school had begun experimenting with attendance on the computer, but it needed to be printed out to go to the front office at that time. Otherwise, there was FreeCell and Minesweeper.

I set my notebook to the side of the keyboard and paid about as much attention to the lecture as usual. We followed up from the stuff about laws and got into a little bit about religions because the two went hand in hand.

I flipped through the pages. The myths presented were the basic ones. Creation and destruction of the world, especially in cycles. I skimmed the pages, my mind on what was happening to me.

If there was anything there then I didn’t find it. Oh sure, I’d chanced upon things here and there in Greek mythology and there was something from Japan about half-snake creatures which switched between male and female. But missing, as far as I knew, was a person whose very presence caused an increase in female attributes. Who, when she let go of her restraint, could utterly and completely change a man into a woman.

That sort of thing was reserved for the gods. Or those touched by gods. Neither idea I wanted to contemplate.

Instead, I leaned back in the fuzzy, vaguely-comfortable office chair the teacher used and tried not to contemplate anything at all. Just write when I needed and get into the zone where the minutes left in the day flew past. That worked for like two seconds.

Despite my wish to speed time along, the main lesson of the day was rather interesting. Research the mythology of Egypt and what gods represented what. Then turn that into a modern-day god or goddess.

Tassinari presented the example of the God of Homework. Rings around his eyes. Pen markings etched into his body. His blessings or curses came with a red marker. It was amusing but intimidating.

He broke it down into key attributes, such as what need, embodiment, or feeling a god or goddess provides to a culture. We had to read through a lot of given figures and break apart what commonalities we could find and other questions the textbook provided. This would help us in fashioning our own, modern-day representative.  

Groups again but Tassinari made sure to put me at the periphery of a group of mostly girls. I was with them, but it was clear they’d already drawn the lines of who did what for the group and that I was just along for the ride. Fine by me. I’d given about all I could for a Friday.

The memorable people of the group were Krissy, who had a fanatical devotion to Kobe Bryant. She decorated all her folders with his smiling face and already had detailed plans about how she would become his wife. And Shelby.

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Shelby. Oh, Shelby. I’d nearly forgotten about her. How could I? We’d had a few classes together, but I’d heard more about her in years past from Wes when he talked about his art classes. Shelby was good at art. Really good at art. Especially when it came to the male form.

She used to get asked to draw stuff for groups, class posters, and was even featured in the yearbook her freshman year. But she went a little too far. You see, she was into Boy Love. I’d seen a little of it on AOL’s bulletin board. Accidentally, mind you.

Shelby had filled, unlined notebooks with male drawings. Most naked, most gently caressing or kissing other men. Some were original creations with an anime style. Some were more realistic. Plenty were characters from stories I vaguely recognized.

Today, it was young Demetrius and Marcus from the Abby Longbloom books. They were both naked with their hands obscuring their...nether regions. Demetrius, taller with darker skin, loomed over Marcus from behind and wrapped his arms around him. She was filling in the details of their hair.

“How are you, Shelby?” I asked, while supporting my chin with my hand and leaning on the edge of the desk, a position which felt barely comfortable with the risk of plastic, metal, and wood jamming into your side.

Jerking up, Shelby glanced over at me with wide eyes and asked, “Hm?” I repeated my question and looked her over.

Shelby pretty much only wore one thing to class: dresses. They would have layers and slip to the floor when it was cold and have narrow straps and a fanned, wide flounce when it was warm, but it was always a dress.

This snailing-by Friday, it was a cherry blossom pink one which fell past her crossed legs with bows around her waist and long sleeves. Simple but nice.

She kept her pencil on the paper as she answered, “I’m alright. How are you?”

No time for full disclosure, so I just answered her in the same words and asked, “You like the Longbloom series?”

To that, she gave a slight shrug and answered, “K-kinda. It has some fun parts. It needs more guys in it though. And fewer guys turning into girls.”

By cow farts? I probably needed to read more of that series, as real-life was starting to look odder than fiction.

I had to ask, though I was sure someone had asked it of her before, “Do you like turning girls into guys, Shelby?”

I noticed one of the other girls in the group turned in our direction. Shelby especially noticed, clamped her mouth shut, and receded in her desk. She scooted towards me as quietly as she could and whispered, “Sometimes. I know it’s weird, but I like imagining it. Even of you…”

Raised eyebrows. She gently apologized and amended, “Not a lot but like…just I do it to every girl. Just kinda wonder. If they were born male. It’s weird, but I can’t help myself.”

I told her it was fine, and it wasn’t that weird, really. Leaning closer, she admitted, “I daydream a lot like. Seeing guys in class and just kinda…putting them together. A gentle touch by big, strong hands. A caress of a flat, supple chest. The soft places and the hard places…” Her voice hid inside a squeak as her face went flush. She had a surprisingly-high voice for someone nearly six feet tall.

She cleared the little mouse out of her throat and carefully continued, “Just…I think it’s so beautiful and precious. Boyish love. Energy and sparkling delight. Radiant eyes. Protection and fraternal embrace. Love spoken with a lingering look. I can’t think of anything better.”

I watched Shelby and told her, “That’s cool.”

She gave me a slight, appreciative smile and went back to her work. I could’ve told her more. I could’ve mentioned that I had a power. Maybe, since I had the power to make boys into girls, I could one day figure out how to do it vice versa and put Shelby in a man-love coma. Perhaps even bring back Wes.

But I didn’t feel the same excitement over creating a boy from a girl that Shelby just expressed. I mean, I liked boys, but did I feel the same words? Imagine a boy. An ideal. Muscular, tall, nicely-groomed hair. A friendly smile. A nice body…

I couldn’t quite hold on to it. My mind kept shifting over to Lea with her small, slight form. Hair flowing over her shoulders. Bounding smile. Eager hugs. Was that any weirder than Shelby’s daydreams? Did it mean anything?

Probably only meant a headache of another thing to figure out about my life on top of the pile. I took a break from the group to roam the room and let my energy waft. I made a few trips to the teacher. He put me in other groups. He almost got me within speaking distance of Ben. But I didn’t seek him out. If he wanted to talk to me then he knew where I was.

Shelby asked for my feedback on her work. I complimented her proportions. The heads looked right. The eyes were a little too big, but I knew that kinda went with the style she intended. I didn’t know the characters, so I could only associate them with what official art came with the books. They seemed relatively accurate, though a little idealized. I gave her a nod and a smile.

And so, I made it through last period. Again, we turned in something with my name on it. I think it was a god of cleanliness based on the look of the school janitors. The quick presentation the lead girls did mentioned how gods could look like regular people, so that’s why the unassuming appearance. The real god form was a void which sucked dust into it and ate it. Wouldn’t mind something like that to clean out my house a little. I read from something they handed me and did my best to make it look like I’d come up with that part.

Before I got up to go, Shelby leaned over the rail of her desk and told me with a slight smile, “Thanks.”

I assured her it was no problem. Glad to make at least one random person smile. She’d probably feel differently if she knew I was wiping out her beloved boys bit by bit.

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Art by Alexis Rillera/Anirhapsodist