I went home from that basketball game with the knowledge that there was an actual reason to throw a ball from the half court and that my heart was fragile and soft. I wanted to pretend that I had to be hard and coarse to avoid any pain. At my school, as large as it was, there was a clique order. Justin way have not been officially a part of one but to not be in one was to be in one in the eyes of the class caste system. I was considered the unknown. No one really knew who or what I was due to my hoodie and dark clothes. I was a girl. A special one in my own eyes. Sure, perhaps a bit high on the Harley Quinn spectrum, but if I was required to wear a mask so I wouldn’t feel put out by the forty-two percent of the school that had loud mouths, then I’d do it. But I had started to get a little brazen by wearing my colors on my backpack.
I threw my backpack on the side of my bed and took off my jacket. I would almost take showers in it if I could. It was like a warm blanket, like arms folded over my body in protection. I sighed as I wondered if Justin would take its place.
“Rikki!” A voice shrieked .
I turned to the door as it flew open and my older sister, a cheerleader who went to the same school, I might add, charged in like she owned my room. She used to do it before I transitioned, and she decided to continue doing it since we were “sisters”. However, there was Hell to pay if I returned the favor.
“Can you knock next time?” I asked as I took off my glasses and placed them in a case.
“Were you sitting with Justin Clarke?”
“Is that his last name? We didn’t do last names.”
“Jesus, Rikki, you were drooling over him the entire game and didn’t even know his name?”
“Names are not needed when the soul speaks, Becca. Wait, I wasn’t drooling!”
Becca shook her head and then stared at the ceiling. Countdown to an explosion epithets in three…two..one… “Did you tell him?”
“Tell him what? That I prefer Robert Smith over Robert Pattison? We went over movies and music, I think in the third quarter.”
“No, about—”
“I know what you’re trying to ask. So callous, Becca, God.”
“I’m just looking out for you. Justin’s a popular guy.”
“And?”
“And if he found out, maybe he would…”
“Maybe he’d love it? Perhaps I can turn him away from your CIS-lifestyle.”
“You know you’re not supposed to talk like that to me.”
“But you’re in here thinking that I need to tell a guy I just met what’s in my pants?”
“Well, he was looking.”
“Were you cheering or leering at us for the entire game?”
“Did he kiss you goodnight?”
“Becca, out.”
“I’m just curious.”
“No, CC, is curious, you’re just annoying me.”
CC—Captain Cuteness—was our cat. He was cute once but as he matured his cutesy name clashed with ugly reality, so, we called him CC.
“You need to tell me these things.” Becca took a step back but still had her eyes on me.
“How about a TikTok video when we first make-out?”
“Rikki…”
“Becca…”
“You need to be more careful, okay?” She was almost to the threshold, so I walked over, gabbed the door.
“I’m not the one trying to dox myself.”
Becca stood far enough so she couldn’t say I slammed the door in her face.
“What did I say about the language?”
“Goodnight, Becca.”
“Did you say that to Justin too?”
“Yes, in the language of undying love,” I muttered as I slammed the door and locked it.
I made a mental note to not let him even step onto our block.
Our parents would throw an impromptu party and my younger brother and Becca would throw thirteen million questions at him. We wouldn’t need matching clothes or jewelry, but matching katanas in order to perform hara-kiri before my family ever opened the front door.

I thought long and hard—well, maybe for five minutes—about the ramifications that could occur if Justin asked the right questions to the right person. We went to a large school and people tend to float in the ether and only certain names ever came out of the fog and could be recognized. Justin was one of them and so was Becca. I was not and I preferred it that way but, for some reason, I thought something different about Justin and I didn’t have to raise my defenses while we talked.
But that was just him and I for a few hours during a basketball game. I hadn’t put in much thought about what would be said by the student body or Justin. The court of public opinion would either crucify us, leave us with a shoulder shrug and a “meh” or never acknowledge it to begin with. As much as I wanted to just think of all the positives that COULD happen, I had to embrace my inner Wednesday Addams and not think too much about things.