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It was official. I was in the tenth grade.
That meant absolutely nothing to me, except that I wasn't in the same grade as Eddie, which was a big disappointment, and I thought I was in the same grade as Eponine, which was a nice feeling. And that in itself was more complicated than I wanted to dwell on for very long, because I still couldn't really work out more than half of what I felt and how much of it was allowed or appropriate.
I wanted to stamp down on these feelings. Sal was dead and I didn't know what it meant to think about anyone else the way I had thought of her. Harder still, I didn't know what it meant that I was thinking of another boy the way I'd thought of her.
Rather than let myself dwell on any of that, I was forcing myself to think about school. It was starting in just a few weeks and now that I knew where I would officially be placed, there were things I had to buy. The school had given me a list when I was there earlier with a volunteer from the Children's Home and the man had offered to come with, but I had just shaken my head. I could do this on my own.
Then I realized I couldn't. I didn't know what some of the things were, what they meant. I didn't want to ask the people from the Home, and I felt too embarrassed to ask one of my friends who would be at school with me, and so I knew exactly who I had to ask.
I texted Elio, asking if he would meet me, then waited near the store for him with my list clutched in one fist. Maybe it was a little stupid, but it made me angry, not knowing what these items were. I knew the simple things, like pencils and pens, but I didn't know what a protractor was or loose leaf or a binder.
I hated not knowing things.
That meant absolutely nothing to me, except that I wasn't in the same grade as Eddie, which was a big disappointment, and I thought I was in the same grade as Eponine, which was a nice feeling. And that in itself was more complicated than I wanted to dwell on for very long, because I still couldn't really work out more than half of what I felt and how much of it was allowed or appropriate.
I wanted to stamp down on these feelings. Sal was dead and I didn't know what it meant to think about anyone else the way I had thought of her. Harder still, I didn't know what it meant that I was thinking of another boy the way I'd thought of her.
Rather than let myself dwell on any of that, I was forcing myself to think about school. It was starting in just a few weeks and now that I knew where I would officially be placed, there were things I had to buy. The school had given me a list when I was there earlier with a volunteer from the Children's Home and the man had offered to come with, but I had just shaken my head. I could do this on my own.
Then I realized I couldn't. I didn't know what some of the things were, what they meant. I didn't want to ask the people from the Home, and I felt too embarrassed to ask one of my friends who would be at school with me, and so I knew exactly who I had to ask.
I texted Elio, asking if he would meet me, then waited near the store for him with my list clutched in one fist. Maybe it was a little stupid, but it made me angry, not knowing what these items were. I knew the simple things, like pencils and pens, but I didn't know what a protractor was or loose leaf or a binder.
I hated not knowing things.
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"Nicaise explained it to me," I said, looking at a wall of books with zippers along the side. I took one down to look at it instead of looking at Elio, then unzipped it and read the tag inside, which told me it was a three ring zippered binder. Whatever that meant.
"I don't know what I am," I admitted, still not looking at Elio. "Before there was Sal... Sally. But I liked her even when I thought she was a boy. And now..." I shrugged. Now there was Eddie. But also sometimes Veronica. In different ways.
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"Yeah, Nicaise is a good friend," I tell him, gesturing towards the binders and the folders that go inside. "Pick out one of those. And some folders. It'll help keep you organized. I liked to have a folder for each class."
Jamie speaks and I listen, selecting a binder for myself since he seems to not want a great deal of attention. At first I feel like I may not be qualified to give him any advice. I am so new to all of this myself, but I am so grateful for the advice given to me by friends that I've made here. I may not be an expert on the topic, but I have something to say about it.
"It sounds like you might be like me," I offer easily, keeping my voice quiet so no one overhears, even though we're currently alone in the aisle. "But there is nothing wrong with taking the time to figure it out. There is nothing wrong with how you feel, or what you want. There's no need to put a label on anything. Kiss girls if you want to. Kiss boys if you want to." Finally, I look over at him and give him a reassuring smile. "And if you ever want to talk, I'm here."
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I wondered if other boys my age just kissed people all the time without thinking about it. The only person I had ever kissed was Sal and that had felt enormous, as if we were doing something we had both been waiting for a very long time, something perfect and also forbidden, because if Peter had ever caught us he would have destroyed the entire Island.
But I also understood. A little. I wanted to kiss Eddie sometimes. I tried not to think about it, but I did.