The Class of Twenty-Twelve

The Class of Twenty-Twelve

Part Three, by Michelle Wilder

"Do you think he might be gay?" Diana sounded carefully neutral.
"I don't know, but I ~do~ think he might be transgendered."

---

Diana Warkington was going through a small mountain of bills with Carol when Craig Danvers and his best friend Megan O'Hearn came through the office doors. She felt a wave of nostalgia at the sight of them: near-identical outfits: school blazers, dark slacks, white blouses and smiles.

After everyone had ooh-ed and ahh-ed and reminisced about the old days (five years ago!), Diana said Megan could wear the borrowed blazer for the day and then directed Craig over to Donna Edwards for his revised class schedules and, she hoped, a little check-in on the emotional front.

-

"You look very nice today!"

Craig smiled widely. "My sister said I could have her old school jacket..." He blushed through his blush. "She said she loved having a uniform. Like it was fitting in or belonging just to put it on."

"Do you feel that way? Like it helps you belong?" She watched him look down at it, touch the school crest. When he sat straight again he'd lost his smile, but looked fine.

"Maybe... I think it does. But the girls, Karen and Naomi and Nayleen and them..?" He looked to see if she knew who and she nodded.

"I think... I already feel like they like me, I mean, and Megan's already my best friend...."

Donna watched him think, and noticed more of the details. It really was a blouse he had on, not a boy's shirt. She was also pretty sure he had full makeup on again. Not eye....

But he hadn't looked this way on Monday. Or Tuesday. Or in the meetings she'd had with his family in the last weeks. This was a very different-appearing Craig Danvers.

As she thought about that, she realized that he was also, aside from his new appearance, a happier boy than he had been, than she'd seen before.

Which led her back to a question that had to be asked, though now she expected a positive answer.

"I see the girls got you to try some makeup?"

He looked startled at that, like he thought maybe she hadn't noticed?

"Umm.... Karen said I, she said she could help my eyes, they were baggy, I mean, with dark circles? And she used concealer, and Lynda, my sister, she noticed and she tried hers and it worked better and then the girls tried to fix it the same and it was too much, they said...." He was back to blushing a bright red. Then he looked up worried.

"They're not in trouble, or anything, are they? I mean, it was just for fun and to make my eyes look less... look better? And Karen said the washroom, it was okay.... But I was, I coulda said no but it was just...." He ran down, and looked scared.

"Fun?"

He nodded. "Yeah. But they...."

He stopped, or had to think. She watched him soften as he thought, maybe for a word....

"Your friends?"

"Yeah." He smiled a tiny bit.

"'Nuff said, then." She winked at him.

He smiled all the way.

----

He was embarrassed to be late for homeroom again but Mr. J just smiled and waved him to his desk and the huge grins from all his friends and admiring comments about his blazer made it all okay. Megan leaned over and whispered she told him so and he smiled and nodded happily back before Mr. J a-hemmed and called her name.

"Just telling Craig you're the best, Mr. J!"

The groaning and kissing noises were loud. Craig's laughs were louder.

----

Mr. Johnston asked Craig to come see him at the last part of homeroom so they could go over his new classes and where they were and stuff.

When Craig had taken a seat beside him at the front desk, Mr. J smiled at him again. "You look like you're fitting in here better than half the girls. You look very nice, by the way."

Craig did his little ducking habit. "Thank you. It's my sister's stuff, I mean she gave it to me, but it was hers when she went, when she came here."

"Well, it suits you. You look very pretty."

He almost laughed at Craig's attempt to look nonchalant even while he turned bright red and smiled.

----

All the girls in his new math class seemed to stare at him when he finally found the room, a few minutes late, again. It was a really full class, like more desks than usual, he thought. And more girls.

He'd gotten lost in the old building, all short stairways and halls and odd room numbers, even after Mr. J's instructions. Barb and Colleen and Angela all waved and grinned at him.

Mrs. Simcoe was a woman about as old as his mother, or maybe older. She was at the blackboard with a girl who was writing out an equation from a paper.

"Craig?" She stared at him and sounded... well, not like a teacher.

"Yes, miss? Simcoe? Is this my class?" Then he thought that was brilliant.... He knew it was, from Barb and them. But she smiled a little and moved toward him with one arm out, like come here.

"Right the first try. I'm glad you found us." She smiled a bit wider at his face and then stepped close and spoke like it was a secret. "All the girls get lost their first day."

She escorted him to an empty desk at the front that looked like it was squeezed in extra, there were only two in the row, and introduced him to Candace and Nancy, who was the girl from the blackboard. Nancy sat behind Candace, who had the desk beside him.

"I'll start you out at the same level as the rest of the class, and Candace? Can you pull your desk over close to Craig's and help orient him? You can ask her about what we're doing, but keep it quiet, okay? And Nancy, you should be able to help him with his assignments too, okay?"

They both agreed, or nodded, and the three noisily pushed their desks around so Craig ended up between them in a three-desk line.

Once they were all seated, both girls whispered introductions, Candace first. "Hi! It's so cool you're in our class! I love your jacket, it looks great on you! Are you wearing makeup! My mom says I can't wear any to school at ~all~ and it's so unfair because practically everyone does..."

"You borrow more than anyone else wears and you do look nice, Craig. Hi, I'm Nancy, class geek." She grinned and Candy giggled.

Craig didn't know what to say, but he didn't get beyond "Hi" before Mrs. Simcoe sort of glared at them and then turned back to the work on the board. And Nancy leaned into his shoulder and pointed at the same problem in the book that Candy slid over to show him.

He smiled at Barb and Colleen too, the first chance he got. Angela was right at the back and he couldn't see her, sitting down.

----

When the bell went it was a race between the girls rushing to say hi and Mrs. Simcoe getting his attention and assigning him a text and some photocopied stuff that wasn't in the book. She won by being in charge, or older or something, and showed him what he had to do first. Then she kind of included Candace and Nancy.

"Most of the girls use study partners or homework groups, and Nancy and Candace are well ahead of the class level and I've asked them, so for now I'd like you to pair, join up with them if you can all arrange it, okay?" The two girls nodded enthusiastically and smiled at him.

Barb and Angela looked sad and Colleen looked like she was going to talk to Mrs. Simcoe.

----

"Diana?" Paul Johnston tapped on her open door with a finger tip. "Got a few minutes?"

"Of course." She motioned him in and he sat, putting a sheaf of papers on the remaining chair. She tried not to assume what it was about.

"Mm... I don't know how to start this." He looked out the door for some reason she again tried not to analyze.

"Did you see our young Mr. Danver this morning?" He looked back in time to see her smile start.

Diana Warkington had no problems with Craig's appearance. If it was a touch of color his homeroom teacher was seeing her for... well, it warrented a smile

"Yes. I see you have." He smiled back, but in an entirely different way.

"I told him he looked pretty, and I think he was happy I noticed." He watched her expression change as she heard him.

"Do you think he might be gay?" Diana sounded carefully neutral.

"I don't know, but I ~do~ think he might be transgendered."

Her face went several interesting directions.

----

Lunch was really busy for Craig as he tried to say hello to about a hundred new classmates and still see Karen and Meg and his homeroom friends. It turned out there was a kind of understood separation of the years, even though it also turned out, too, that Candace and Shelly were sisters.

But Candy and Nancy really wanted to sit with Craig at least for a while and Shelly made a funny big deal about finally letting them at the ~grown-up~ table and they pulled up chairs close on either side of Craig's, just like in class, and acted funny-cozy, making everyone else scrape their chairs and complain and whine.

Candy stage-whispered at Craig while she grinned at everyone. "So... what's it like having to hang around with old people? Did you know Shel needs Depends and already wears dentures? I hope I'm not so senile when ~I'm~ fifteen...."

"And this is my life...." Shelly looked like she was going to cry. Or try to.

----

Ten minutes before lunch ended, Karen talked to Mrs. Alder and got permission for all of them to go to the washroom. Again. It was crowded, but everyone wanted to see, or say.

Craig showed Karen the blush he had and she dug hers out and they looked and Lynda's was more orangey, or peachy, and everyone said it did look really natural like he had it on, Lynda's.... But they thought the pink might be better?

After trying both on his arm, everyone said they were really the same, on, or they worked as well, the same, which was weird, 'cause they were pretty different in the compacts.

He told them what his sister said about powder, or pressed powder and the other kind, and most of them said it sounded good, but none of them knew and only Karen had used it more than a few times and she said it was all the same, she'd always thought, but they all said there were TONS of colors of pressed and the liquid and stuff. And none of them thought they were experts, yet.

Megan said they'd have to go shopping.

----

Afternoon was new classes in history and civics and a visit with Mrs. Edwards in between. Every class was better than the last because more and more of the girls knew him, sometimes from just the class before, but the tiny waves and smiles were all he needed to not feel like a... like he used to.

The commotions after each class, introductions and offers for help and study and homework groups, and the different teachers all seeming to not care about the competition... it all felt wonderful.

-

After his last class, after everyone had said goodbye and that they'd see him tomorrow and headed home or to activities, he went to put his books away.

Just down the hall, just as he shut and locked his locker, he saw Saundra and another girl glancing at him and the chill as they whispered was almost....

He had to stop. He stopped.

He'd had a really good day. Almost every minute.

-

He didn't smile at them, because they were jerks, or at least Saundra was a jerk, especially about Nayleen. But he did smile as he walked away.

----

He hadn't seen a single person since Saundra. It was becoming spooky, like the whole back wing of the school was deserted. The big oak door of the auditorium, or theater or whatever, was almost black, it was so old.

The sign on the door said it was auditions, but there wasn't anyone there, outside, and it was quiet. He pushed slowly, and the door moved. The other door opened the other way.

It was really heavy. Mrs. Warkington had opened it before....

It was really, ~really~ dark, inside the doorway. After listening another minute, he pushed on it more, afraid it'd squeak or rattle, and a little shy about meeting the ancient Mrs. Higgins. He kept a foot in the brighter hallway.

There was no noise, but it was like he heard an echo. He almost stopped pushing, almost stepped back, his breath coming in gasps.

He could see down below, far away, and the stage was lit, barely enough to see it. He knew theaters were dark, if the lights were off. It was stupid. But it was really pitch dark.

He stepped in and took a moment to finally let go of the door. It took a few seconds to just make his hand let go. When it closed he jumped at the thunk and his pulse raced, fluttering, and he began to worry about getting enough air.

"Down here, darlings!" A woman's voice called out from down below.

It was ~really~ dark where he was. The crack under the door was light. He looked at the two lights, under the door, and down at the stage. His breathing came back a bit more normally, a panting, though he still could feel his heart.

He had to wait to see. There could've been anything around him.... He reached back and held on to the door handle with a grip that still wasn't enough. He wanted to go.

She knew he was here now, but she didn't know it was him. He could still leave. She wouldn't see, would she? See who he was? It was so dark....

He tried to breathe, to think. If he just went... if he could see....

It was light in the hall.

He looked back and began to see better. The empty stage was lit with regular lights, like reading lamps, so not very, and the front rows, a long way away, lines of seats.

Down. If there were steps, he couldn't see.... There was one bright light in about the third row, like another lamp, and a few people were there, faces and heads.

The whole room started to appear as his eyes adjusted. The theater, like Mrs. Warkington showed him, the same, when it was more lit up, then. But still too dark.

His heart almost hurt. He breathed as deep and as slowly as he could.

He could see his hands on the door handle, pale hands and blackness. Better vision. Adapting, he remembered....

This... she knew he was here, even that he was coming, Mr. J said.... He'd told Mr. J he would, today.

As the aisle became a little more visible, he slowly, carefully let go of the door, and when he didn't fall or... something... reached over and grabbed the seat nearest him.

Seat to seat, he slowly headed down the line of pitch dark between the rows, tiny steps and holding tight to every seat.

"Here for the auditions, I hope? Hurry down!" The lady's voice was from the lights in the seats for sure, and he saw faces turn towards him, bright and yellowish. The light made shadows and bright spots on them.

The older woman wasn't really ancient, from her voice, but the light was weird.

"You must be Craig?" She stood up and waved him in front of her as she sideways-walked out of the row into the aisle. "Let's see you."

It was like she was running at him. Too fast, too close, and she got darker as she left the light. A shadow. He had to hold onto the seat to keep from falling as he leaned back and away without thinking. She was loud. And stopped too close.

She looked him up and down, though he couldn't see her face in the dark. She twirled him with her finger. Moved her finger, her hand.

Finally, too late, after checking twice that he'd be able to find the chair again, he did. He could see the door.

He almost lost his balance, too, before he grabbed the same chair-back again, and then he saw her smile as he came around to face her. The dark shadows were ugly. Made her ugly.

"Mr. Johnston said you might be interested in our winter production." He could see her teeth, but not her eyes.

Maybe she was angry. Maybe... maybe 'cause he didn't answer. He had to answer.

"I'll bet you don't even know what play we're putting on, do you?" Her voice was... sarcastic. She was mad. At him, and it was....

She was too close and she didn't have any eyes.

He suddenly felt a cold spike of fear, more than the dark... he hadn't liked it, from the door.... He was too far and the steps, up, in the dark.

He shouldn't be even there... it was going to be too much just to catch up, and even if Mr. J said, maybe... he promised Mr. J... it was too dark and he had to see-

He didn't want to, to be in a play, or be there, or anything. He didn't want Mr. J to be mad. He had to say no.

"Mm-m-m-m-" He started to breathe faster. Way too fast.

She reached out a hand.

He took a step back, enough to reach the next row of seats, and swayed, and looked up the aisle. It was too dark. His fingers hurt.

Fear roared in his ears.

Even though it was darker facing away, even though it was worse not seeing where she was, he turned away and ran in the pitch black as fast as he could, staring at the tiny line of bright light under the doors, at the doors he could almost see, touching the seats, tripping on the steps, ashamed of the noises he was making, knowing she was behind him all the way, faster.

----

He waited by the front door, beside the stone steps, behind the bushes, afraid that any of the girls would see him as they left from last class and activities, afraid they'd hear him, see how he was.

The rain was lighter than before and not really getting on him, but it was cold, and the dark made it worse. He could even see his breath, maybe.

He knew he was making it worse. Lynda's jacket was getting wet from the leaves. He'd lost his books and bag somewhere, but was afraid to go back.

----

When Lynda pulled up he wanted to wait until there was nobody else out front, but then he got scared she'd leave without him and then Megan came out the door and he barely managed to wait until she'd run down the steps before he darted out of his hiding place and arrived at the same time she did. Just before. He opened the back door and jumped in, closing the door.

Megan had a moment of real hurt before she realized something had happened. Or what it meant. She opened the back door he'd shut and slid in, glancing at Lynda, who looked stricken.

Craig was against the far door, hunched below the windows, eyes closed and shaking.

He couldn't decide what to do. He wanted to get out the other side, to make Megan sit in the front. He wished he could've walked home, but he wasn't allowed, and it was still raining, and he couldn't, really. He wanted to be alone, but not here, not near the school. He wanted to cry and tell, and make....

He had to fight not to push, or hit, to keep alone any way he could. Not to hurt his best friend and sister.

He didn't want to talk to them. To anyone. Even if he'd have to, at home. He could tell them about the rest of the day, or that it was nothing, just school. His mom complained before when he'd said that... sometimes he did it... when he'd had to hide marks....

Lynda opened the door behind him just as the sobs racked his body, as more of the fear and pain and thoughts came. New fear and pain. Old fear and old pain.

----

Megan wanted to rage, shout, swear. Lynda sat with her and kept her voice down, down low enough that nobody upstairs would hear.

"Look, we don't know what happened, okay? It might've been nothing to do with school at all, or something really small that he just remembered, that connected some way. He does that sometimes, because he, he dissociated, he... his memory of some of the really bad... stuff... some of his memories are, are hard for him to... have, okay?" She pulled her closer and rocked her a little. "We don't know what it was, or if it was anything...."

She wanted to kill someone. Daniel Berry. Kyle Jefferies. Either one. Or one of their sick friends. Or the one who did this, whatever, today.

But she soothed Megan.

----

Margaret rubbed his back and made the little sounds that calmed her as much as her son. The little songs from when she was a baby.

----

Robert heard Lynda rush towards him as he opened the garage door, then saw her frantic gestures, quieting him. He didn't understand much after a minute or two of their whispered explanations, but he did know he was needed upstairs. And that he needed to be calm.

-

He carefully opened the door and looked in.

His boy was dressed in a huge t-shirt, one of his, he realized. Margaret was rubbing his back and looked up at him with red eyes. It was quiet and he could hear gentle breathing.

The sleep sounds loosened something in his chest, from agony to pain. Margaret whispering that he wasn't injured eased the pain a little more.

----

Craig woke around seven. His father was there, reading, or holding a book, looking at him. Just that he was, with that stupid little light that hardly worked....

-

When he'd calmed down enough to whisper clearly, whisper so he wouldn't stutter, he tried to explain. About how scared he was, how it felt like everything good that'd happened was coming apart, or that it was just so bad... like her voice was like... a kick... or he remembered a kick.... Or Saundra's look that wasn't bad and then was, after, when he'd been so afraid she'd see him... or that they'd laugh at his stutter and the dark and if she touched him and it all got worse and worse so fast after such a fun day....

What Dan had said, after... if he told... and he did tell, and it might happen and it'd be his fault because he told, and if it did- how he had sounded....

"Nobody will ~ever~ do that to you, ever."

His dad's voice was strange and Craig got afraid, except for the hug, all around him, as strong as he was.

"I will ~never~ let that happen, okay?" His daddy squeezed him as safe as he could.

"I love you, forever and no matter what, and nobody will ever change that, nobody. No one is mean enough or strong enough to ~ever~ change that I love you, and your mom loves you and Lynda loves you, and Megan loves you too, okay?"

----

It took a long, long hour of reassurance and love, but Craig started to believe again. And could talk again.

Everyone came in then, and they all talked. After they talked, Craig and Lynda went to bed early, and to sleep, late. Their father stayed with them even later.

Megan went home with Mrs. Danvers and they talked with her parents about what happened. Megan slept with the lights on.

----

"Stutterer?" Mr. Johnston looked up from his paper about the same time Ms Edwards and Mrs. Simcoe did. Gwen Higgins repeated herself.

"Yes, a stutterer. He stuttered badly and was terrified, I think to even be there and I wish you had mentioned that.... I try to find parts and places for all the girls who want to try, but he certainly isn't suited for performance."

"He hasn't stuttered before, that I've noticed." Paul looked worried.

"Perhaps when he's nervous? It's pretty common, and he was ~very~ nervous."

"No, he's... he's certainly been nervous a few times this week and he's not stuttered at all."

"Excuse me, Gwen," Donna Edwards stepped closer, her coffee forgotten. "I couldn't help overhearing. Did Craig stutter the whole time you spoke to him?"

She looked concerned, and Gwen picked up on it. "Yes... well, he arrived just a few minutes into the period, the first girl... the first to arrive, and he only spoke a few words, but he stuttered heavily and ran out. I never even got his name out of him. Why? Is there something wrong?" She lifted a hand.

"He ran out of the auditorium, like a bad case of stage fright... he didn't even say excuse me or goodbye." She began to sound frightened too, more as she spoke.

"Gwen, this is quite important." Donna looked serious. All of the staff paused in their early morning tasks.

"Was Craig scared when he first arrived? More than normal, for most girls? Was he hurt, or dirty?"

----

The phone rang as Robert was about to pick it up. "Hello?"

"Mr. Danvers? This is Diana Warkington at Balantines. Ms Edwards is here with me, Craig's guidance counselor, and we believe something might have happened to scare your child yesterday, at the end of school, we don't know what. But he might have left the school in a panic. Did he get home safely?"

Her tone was odd, not like the woman he'd talked to so often. He knew enough, and didn't blame her, but she was still the one in charge.

"He did, and he was scared. Do you know what frightened him?" He realized his tone was accusatory, angry, but he couldn't find a good reason to be very friendly just then.

"Oh, thank god...." He heard her relay the news, he's safe at least, to someone else. Then she was back on the phone.

"I'm sorry.... This morning, one of our staff commented that he had stuttered and I knew he did that when he was scared, but she didn't, or he hasn't, and he left her in a hurry... it was an audition, and she thought it was stage fright, and it was the last period of the day."

She stopped. Again, Robert was aware of how different she sounded. He let go of much of his anger. She wasn't the one. He knew that. And she and Craig... they didn't contradict...

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Warkington. I was angry at the school and it's not your fault." He took a breath. "Can I come in this morning? We want him to stay home today, if that's okay? He's very... still upset."

----

"The assault, the sexual assault..." He stopped and thought.

"The boys who raped him did it in a change room, a building off the football field, and it was very dark. Craig is afraid of the dark, since then. Sometimes. He won't say that, but he is."

It was very quiet in the bright, little office, though the sounds of the school outside were ringing and alive. Robert unclenched his hands but kept his gaze lowered. Mrs. Warkington stayed silent.

"The boys who did it threatened him, with worse things, if he told, or..." He took a breath, wondered if it was relevant.

"He still can't remember all of it, but I, we... the psychiatrist thinks sometimes it's memories of what they said, of the threats. And if the theater was dark..."

----

"Craig Danvers won't be in today as he's feeling a little under the weather." Paul tried not to mirror the expression on Megan O'Hearn's face as he made the casual announcement at the start of home room.

He felt like he'd failed, somehow, as so many of the girls suddenly looked sad... or scared.

----

"Honey?" His mom knocked on his door and then peeked in. Lynda hugged his shoulders harder and then they both sat up. He knew it was time.

----

Mrs. Warkington and Ms Edwards and a lady who was probably Mrs. Higgins. He stiffened, but knew it wasn't really her.

They all stood up and he did more than stiffen, but Lynda and his mom were there and he knew they weren't, that Mrs. Higgins wasn't the one... or she was, but she wasn't really.

He felt like he was shrinking, sagging, as the craziness happened again. He knew he couldn't talk. Wouldn't even try. Better a stupid baby than the stuttering again. If he just turned away, away to the right, away from Lynda and away.... But then she'd-

Lynda wrapped her arms around him and stood so he was alone with her and he leaned into her.

She whispered, "You don't have to, if you don't want, okay? And if you do you don't have to talk or anything.... I'll talk, okay?"

She was so quiet they couldn't have heard. She knew, and he trusted her almost more than anyone. He nodded, he didn't know to what, but okay. She kept whispering and the words didn't matter, just that she was there.

-

Donna Edwards watched Craig and his sister and mother. He seemed... a different boy than just the day before. So fragile, barely able to communicate.

She knew Lynda well: her records showed a confident, brash student, one of the leaders of her class. Donna had met her during the negotiations to bring Craig to Balantine's. She didn't know her this way, however, like a mother lion with her baby, her hostile glances at the three of them before she turned to Craig.

His mother seemed... calm. She was perhaps the emotional rock of the family. She cared, deeply, but she was the planner. Practical. It would be hard.

She looked again at Mr. Danvers. A big man, a plumber, a plumbing contractor, she remembered. He was, of all of them, the nurturer, the emotional barometer of the family. The most like Craig, in a way. He was the one who... who'd come to the meetings as Craig's representative. Always worried about his boy's feelings.

And Craig wasn't any different than any other girl, person, who had been sexually abused for a long time. Because the abuse, the bullying, had been sexual. And the final assault was... so recent. The one that had been discovered, that couldn't be hidden. He was doing really well, really... especially if he was transgendered.

-

Diana Warkington wanted to join in the hug, or the close, quiet conversation between Craig and Lynda, but she knew better. Even their mother stood a few inches apart. And Mr. Danvers needed her, more than his children did.

-

Gwen Higgins felt shivering cold.... a sick, weak sensation that went with the full realization that she had hurt one of her children, even if by accident. She should have known, even if she couldn't....

----

The rush of girls at the end of home room was split between Paul and Megan. Only four students seemed completely uninterested in what was wrong with Craig Danvers, and Paul noted them, and their varied expressions.

Then he told them what he could. The girls who were Craig's friends.

----

End of part three