Page 22 of Okay, Cupid

“Oh, that’s great. Um … do you have any clothes I can change into?” I ask.

He gives me a look similar to the one that Mr. Lawson gave me.

“You didn’t bring a change of clothes?” Thompson kind of has that stereotypical gym-teacher thing going on, bushy mustache and a nylon jacket and pants that swish every time he moves.

“Well, I …”

Thompson straightens, shouting across the gym at Huy just as he’s pulling his gym bag out of his backpack. “Trinh!” He waves at Huy and we stand there and watch as he jogs over. “You got extra clothes?”

“Yes, sir!” Huy says cheerfully. “In my bag.”

“Mind giving a set to Jude here?”

I don’t even have to try on Huy’s clothes to know that he’s a good two sizes larger than me, but I guess if he’s the only one with extra clothes, I don’t have many options.

“Come on.” Huy steals a glance at me before he pats my shoulder, and there’s nothing left for me to do except follow him through to the locker room, trying my best to ignore the crowd of half-naked students surrounding me.

Huy leads me to his locker and pulls out a fresh shirt and shorts for me to wear. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” I check the sizes. Thankfully, the shorts have drawstrings, so there’s no risk of me flashing my classmates my underwear.

“No problem, just give them back at the end of the period.”

“Yeah, sure.” Since the locker room lockers aren’t assigned, I can pick any one of them to leave my stuff in, so I pick the one next to Huy, figuring this might give me an opening. And even though I’d much rather change behind one of the privacy curtains, I start to slip my shirt off in front of everyone.

“Thanks again.” I turn back toward Huy just as he’s slipping his own shirt off, and that’s when I see the pieces of tape affixed to the spaces just under his armpit, stretching to cover his nipples, pulling his breasts down to flatten them. “You’re trans?” My voice carries louder in the locker room than I mean it to, echoing off the walls.

Huy stares at me, his shirt half off, as do half the kids in the locker room.

Shit.

“Yeah.” He turns back toward his locker. “That a problem?”

“No, no, I just … I’m trans,” I tell him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to blurt that out.”

He gives me the barest hint of an awkward smile. Great, I made him uncomfortable. “It’s not like it’s a secret.”

“No, yeah. That’s not what I—” Jeez, Jude, how’s that foot in your mouth taste? “I meant that it was a surprise.” God, that still sounds wrong. I just don’t know that many trans people, even living in the Bay. Sure, I’ve come across some for work, and after I came out to Richard and Leah, I snuck off to a teen support group in the Castro.

But some part of me still felt fake, like I didn’t belong. A lot of people have these backward ideas, that nonbinary people don’t “count” as trans, or that you can’t be trans without body dysmorphia or getting surgery and shots so you can “pass.” As if the only way to be trans is to fit into the binary narrative. Back then, I just … I felt like I wasn’t trans enough when I was literally surrounded by other trans people. It was frustrating because I was the only one making me feel that way.

Huy’s brows furrow. “Why was it such a surprise?”

“I don’t know.” I hate that there’s still a novelty to meeting another trans person. And I also think that maybe this is something I could’ve been told. Maybe they didn’t know. “It’s cool,” I assure Huy. “I’m cool with it.”

“Oh, whew. Thank God. If a total stranger approves of my identity, then all those doctor’s appointments haven’t been a waste.”

“I’m sorry,” I apologize. I’m batting great with these two so far.

“Relax,” he tells me, shutting the door to his locker. “I’m just messing with you.”

Except I do feel bad for what I said. “Sorry, I haven’t met that many trans people. It’s one of the reasons my sister wanted to put me in public school. So I could meet more kids.” There, if I play up the “woe is me” angle, then maybe I’ll get a bit of sympathy.

“Understandable. We do live in the shadows,” he whispers like it’s a secret, a sweet smile forming on his lips. “Always watching, waiting for our moment to strike.”

“So that’s the trans agenda?”

“You didn’t get the pamphlet when you came out?”