CHAPTER 20 -- The Interview

My paperwork got to the school, and they told me to come in Thursday afternoon. Teresa lent me her spare uniform: a skirt and vest. I could use my own tights and blouse. Fortunately, they were a bit big on her, because I was a little larger than Teresa, even after the shrinkage caused by my metamorphosis.

My uncle walked me into the school office. They seemed to know exactly who we were. That was pretty much how it always was there: they seemed to know who you were and what you were doing even before you did. They took my cell phone -- they had a cabinet with lots of little slots for cell phones -- and then had me sit down. I told my uncle I'd call him when I was done, and he left. After about ten minutes, the school psychologist called me in.

I sat up straight on the chair with my knees together, like I'd been taught, and pulled the hem of my skirt down. She looked at me patiently, and then asked, "tell me about what brings you to our school."

I was real nervous. I started with the accident and the mix-up at the hospital. Then I told about changing and the harrassment at school. I kind of glossed over the assault in the classroom (I had trouble saying the word "rape") and my suicide attempt. I knew the suicide would come up, but I couldn't figure out how to talk about it. I tried to remember how Teresa had told me that we were supposed to say "ma'am" or "sir," but I wasn't sure I was getting it right.

"Your records say 'Martin', but you've applied as 'Melanie.'"

"Well, ma'am, after the, uh, change, I tried telling people I was a boy, and I got nothing but trouble. People who didn't know me assumed I was a girl, and people who did know me acted mean or weird. I thought I'd try living as a girl for a while. It can't be any worse."

"That makes sense. From now on, as far as we're concerned, you're Melanie, but we'll know you used to be Martin. You're living with your aunt and uncle, now. Why?"

"I had to get out of West High, and moving to a different district was a way to do it. Besides, my, uh, change has been hard on my parents. They don't really know what to do about it. My aunt and uncle are a lot easier with it. I hope it isn't a problem."

"No, I just wanted to know the why. Now, tell me about this incident which got you suspended."

"Isn't it in the psychiatrist's report, ma'am?"

"Yes, but I'd like to hear it from you."

"Yes, ma'am." She looked amused, I think at all the "ma'am"s. I explained about people groping and grabbing me, and then how they pulled me into the classroom. When I described my clothes being pulled off, I started to shake. I finished with, "and then they hit my head, hard, and then I saw the boy's pants were down." I couldn't finish.

"Did he touch you?"

"With his fingers. Ma'am. A teacher came in before he had time to do anything else."

"I saw the school report." I was afraid it was all over. "Your version is a lot more believable. I can see you've been through a lot. Are you anxious about coming back to school?"

I nodded. "A little, ma'am." I suddenly remembered how I was supposed to be sitting and arranged myself. "But I can't just stay at home. And they say your school is a lot better than West High. I would be ...." I trailed off, not knowing the right word.

"Safe?" I nodded. "I guess that explains the suicide attempt?" I nodded again. She looked at me expectantly.

"I was afraid I'd have to go back to West High. I couldn't face that." I was looking at the floor now.

"It says you sent a message to your cousin after you took the pills. Were you hoping she'd save you?" Dr. Gordon had asked me that, too.

"I didn't think that was what I was doing. But she was the only person my age I knew who had stuck with me. I wrote her a letter, but I wanted to leave her something, I don't know, more personal. I didn't know she'd be able to get the cops there within an hour and a half. Maybe some part of me did want to live."

"I think that's why you're here now." We sat quietly for a few minutes. "I think you're very brave. Now, it's time for you to see Ms. Williamson. She's the principal. She'll decide whether you get in. Oh, and Melanie: if you do get in, please don't kill yourself." She said that last with an attempt at a chuckle.

"Don't worry, I wouldn't dare. Teresa would kill me if I did." This time, she did chuckle.

I sat on a chair outside Ms. Williamson's office for maybe five minutes. I figured she was talking with the psychologist. Then she called me in.

Ms. Williams was a large black woman. I think the word "formidable" was invented to describe her. She didn't look like someone you wanted to mess with. She was looking kindly at me, so maybe you were safe if she liked you.

"Hello, Melanie," she said, then added, "who used to be Martin."

"Hello, Ms. Williams." I was doing my best to say the right thing. She showed me to a chair, and I tried to sit properly.

"Is the 'used to be Martin' correct? Or are you just Melanie at school?"

"It's not a secret that I was -- or maybe really am -- a boy, ma'am. My parents still call me Martin, and that's fine with me. My aunt and uncle and cousin have started calling me Melanie. I'm fine with either name. I just thought it would be simpler to be called Melanie and be a girl at school."

"Just to satisfy my curiousity, do you plan on continuing to be Melanie after you graduate?"

"Ma'am, I haven't had time to think about that. I have a hard time thinking past the end of this year."

"Fair enough." Then she started getting more formal.

"Melanie, do you understand that we're a lot stricter here than at your old school?" I nodded. "You'll be supervised everywhere, and only allowed to be where you are supposed to be. Some students have difficulty with that."

"It will be worth it to me if it means I won't get harrassed, ma'am." I shuddered.

"Do you understand that you'll be expected to be polite and respectful at all times?" I nodded. "I see you've already heard about our dress code. You don't mind the uniform?"

"No, ma'am. It's nice, actually. Teresa lent it to me."

"In particular, you will have to be respectful of the other students, and of the teachers. Bad language and insults, even insults about people who aren't there, will not be tolerated. It goes without saying that physical assaults are not allowed."

"Ma'am, that sounds like heaven."

"Some of our methods are a little old-fashioned, do you think you can adjust?"

"Ma'am, I'll do my best."

She sat down in a chair opposite me. "Melanie, what do you hope to get out of coming to Gabriel School?"

"Ma'am, I'm hoping to be able to study and learn in peace. Not have to worry about what people will do to me. Maybe make a few friends."

She seemed satisfied, and went to her desk. "Your grades look good. A little lower this year, but that's not surprising. I see you got an F in physical education."

"I got harrassed a lot in the locker room, once I started, uh, changing. Especially the shower. Especially after the kids found out what was happening to me. I refused to go any more."

"Where did you go?"

"The library. I used to do my homework there, because they had to leave me alone there. You can ask the librarian."

"You realize you would have to go to physical education class here? Are you willing to do that if you can trust that you won't be harrassed?"

"Yes, ma'am. I didn't mind the activities, just being dumped on and jumped on all the time. I'm not very good at it, though."

"Don't worry, we only expect you to make an effort."

She looked at me, sort of examining me. Then she stood up, walked over to me, and shook my hand.

"We look forward to having you as a student. Can you start on Monday?"

"I think so. Ma'am." I was dizzy with relief and had trouble standing. She practically had to pull me up.

"Good. Stop by the nurse's office and then the guidance counselor to set up your schedule on your way out. Report to the office at 8:15 on Monday. We'll have someone accompany you for the first day or two until you get adjusted."

"Thank you, ma'am. I hope I won't give you any reason to regret it."

"I'm sure you won't."

I stumbled out of her office and looked around for the nurse's office. I walked by an open door and someone called out "Melanie!" It was the nurse's office. We went through the usual health questions, but one question got to me: "are you menstruating?" Six months ago I would have thought it was crazy. Now, all I could say was, "yes, ma'am. Twice so far." She told me she had supplies, plus there were tampons in the bathrooms. If I needed to, I could come to her any time, just ask a teacher.

The guidance counselor was a man. Like everyone else, he seemed to know my whole story.

"I've scheduled you with the same classes you were taking at West High," he said. "The teachers will help you get up to speed. Are you good at math?"

I shrugged, "I like it, sir."

"We'll schedule you for regular math at the same time as the advanced class. Once you're settled in, maybe we can switch you." He handed me a sheet of paper. "Here are the supplies you need to pick up for your first day. I assume your cousin can fill you in on the dress code." He reached out his hand. "Welcome to Gabriel, Melanie."

I shook it, and said, "thank you, sir." I retrieved my cell phone and called my uncle to go home. My new home. From my new school.