“Right,” Julian said slowly. “Just a phone. I’ll be more careful. That’s for sure.”
At that moment, his cell buzzed in his pocket again. He was surprised to see his dad’s number staring back at him. Hey J. I’m at a meeting tonight. Make sure your mom doesn’t do too much work tonight, okay? Okay.
Don’t worry. She’s making cookies. But hey, want to take me shopping tomorrow night? I have another party thing to go to on Saturday.
Another one! Popular girl, J. But sure, not a problem.
Julian smiled, albeit disappointed to see “girl” in the text message. He closed his phone, trying to put it from his mind. So many other good things had happened, what was a couple more Julias? Could they really take away the fact that he was someone’s boyfriend? Absolutely not.
“Was that your dad?” Sarah asked.
“Yeah. He’s taking me shopping tomorrow. Don’t worry.”
She let out a visible sigh. “Well, good. Is there anything else you need from me?”
Julian glanced back across the tree. “Maybe decorate this later? Together?”
She smiled up. “Sure. But you need to do work, right? Your teacher did mention you had a project he wanted you to work on. So I’d focus on that. Was that what you wanted to tell me before? Your interesting news?”
“Yeah,” Julian said, his breath shaky. “I’m gonna write a short story for Mr. Singer instead.”
“Exciting. Sci-fi?”
“Of course. No other.”
INSIDE HIS bedroom, Julian turned on his laptop but didn’t work on the project for Mr. Singer. There were still at least two more weeks before final projects needed to be handed in, and Julian was a fast writer. Instead he opened up his iTunes and began to make a new playlist for the songs he had been listening to lately and thinking of Maria with. He was halfway through importing a cover of a really, really cheesy pop song that he found himself listening to in spite of himself when his phone buzzed.
Should we tell anyone? Maria asked. I just told Josie about us because she knows about you. But what do I say to everyone else?
What do you want to say?
That you’re my boyfriend. I like it now! It sounds nice. But I don’t want to out you. So… do I tell them we’re dating? Is it a secret?
It’s only a secret if we’re ashamed, Julian wrote, but erased instead of sending it. Was he ashamed? He wanted to date her—that was clear to him now. But telling everyone else meant he’d have to come up with some kind of story behind a story in order to explain the terms. Julian thought back and realized he was only half a person away from telling everyone he needed to. Just a half a person more—and really, that could be anyone.
Just give me a bit more time, okay? Julian finally wrote. Maybe we can wait until Saturday, during the Secret Santa exchange? You know, instead of watching bad movies we could tell everyone.
Hey. I still think there will be time for bad movies, Maria replied. But sure. I get that. I just hope you like who you got for the rest of the draws!
Yeah, me too. After a couple more quick exchanges about homework and where the party was going to be—this time, Davis had offered up his basement, which was probably going to smell like pot but also had a huge Ping-Pong table—Julian got off the phone. It was still a while before dinner or when they’d be able to decorate the rest of the tree, so he took out a piece of paper, folding it into fours so he could make fake snowflakes for his gift to Davis.
He was halfway through before he remembered he still hadn’t seen who his third Secret Santa was. Somewhat panicked, he emptied out the entire contents of his backpack onto his bed and scanned through them. Nothing. He went into the laundry bin, halfway convinced that he had pulled himself for the name and had completely ruined the celebration, when he finally stumbled on a crumpled-up piece of paper. He unfolded it, dreading the name, until “Maria” stared back at him.
Oh. Well. That isn’t bad at all. In fact, Julian smiled, looking at the playlist he had just made. He knew the perfect thing. He took out another piece of paper, discarding the snowflakes, and began to make a cover for the mix CD. His drawings were not that good—nothing like Josie’s; her work seemed to come out of the page and walk as if they had their own lives—but good enough.
“Julia?” his mother called fifteen minutes later. “You ready?”
“Yeah,” he called down. He folded the mix CD cover and tucked it into his dresser drawer. “I am.”
Chapter Eighteen
“JULIA.”
Julian groaned from his bed. He turned over and drew a pillow over his face, trying to hide from his mother’s calls. He waited for her to call his name again, but nothing happened. He turned around and looked at the bedside clock, only to realize it was three in the morning. He got up and looked down the hallway toward his parents’ room. Nothing. All sleeping.
He sighed as he leaned against the door. In the same way he imagined that vegans or vegetarians ended up dreaming about eating meat, this was another one of Julian’s nightmares. He would wake up hearing voices in his sleep, all of them calling out his old name and waiting for him to respond. In some other versions of the dream, he would ignore the call, only to have it lead to devastating consequences. He’d stood on a road once inside his head, and his old name was called. As he’d ignored it, he’d been hit by a car. In other dreams, his parents had called to him, and he had ignored their cries, only to have those be their last words and have them slip away. Now, as he moved through the dark hallways of his house to the bathroom, he was more lost than before. Even the sound of running water sounded like his name in the pipes.
Julia, Julia. He paused, waited. There was no person there, just his own sleep-deprived worries. He shut the door of his bedroom and tried to get back to sleep.
“JULIA. HEY, Julia! Wait up.”
Julian unhooked one of his earbuds, breaking up the Smashing Pumpkins he had been listening to. When he saw Hannah’s blonde hair appear in his peripheral vision, he sighed. He had gotten so used to hearing his name at least shortened to J by his group of friends that being reminded by Hannah, of all people, made him flinch.
“Hey, Hannah. What’s up?”
“Hey! Why were you running away from me? I’ve been trying to flag you down since the bus stop.”
“Ah, well.” Julian looked down at his iPod and paused the song he was on. He stood under the front hall awning just outside the school doors. He shifted his bag over his shoulder. “I’m not. I was just listening to music and kinda worried I had missed the bell.”
Hannah took a few steps forward and opened the door for him. She nodded to signal for him to step ahead. He did so reluctantly, tangling his earphones around his hoodie collar under his jacket.
“You shouldn’t listen to music so loud if you’re worried about that,” she said as they stepped inside. “And we have plenty of time.”
“Oh, okay. That’s good, then. Are you heading to the cafeteria?”
Inside the foyer, the crowds of students swarmed around them, making him repeat his question twice before Hannah could really hear him.
“Oh, no. But if that’s where you’re going, I’ll follow.”
Julian nodded. If he was early, like apparently he was today, he went to the cafeteria to read. Maria and Josie were almost always late, Kent was at practice, and Davis was usually… doing something. His routine probably varied the most out of all of them, other than Hannah, who Julian was shocked to see outside the music room or with the punk kids she sometimes hung around with before Maria came along.
“So how are you?” Hannah asked as soon as they moved down the mostly empty hallway.
“Fine.”
“Good. What are your plans for winter break?”
“I don’t have any right now, aside from this Secret Santa thing. I hear we’re in Davis’s basement tomorrow.”
“Yep. Super excited. But I wanted to ask. Do you like caroling?”
“Eh,” Julian said, waving his hand in a
fifty-fifty gesture. “It seems like it’s something kids do.”
“Or religious people. My parents usually make me go to church for the songs, you know. I was wondering if you’d like to come with me.”
“Um. I’m not big on churches.”
“Me either. I’m waiting for myself to spontaneously combust as I walk through the door, so it’d be really nice to have someone else come along with me.”
She smiled again as Julian held the cafeteria doors for them. It was a lot quieter here, making Julian less nervous. “What about asking Maria?”
“Um. My parents… don’t really like Maria.”
“Oh.” Julian balked, realizing how foolish of a suggestion that was. “What about one of the guys? Kent or Davis?”
“I don’t know. Davis has Josie now, and well, I’m pretty sure Kent has a girlfriend. I think everyone’s pairing off but me.”
Julian winced slightly, realizing how true that really was. He pulled out a chair in the cafeteria, settling his stuff, and Hannah fell in line right behind him. She seemed fidgety, way more urgent than before. And she’s really trying to be nice. He figured he had scared her away with what happened at the first get-together, in spinning the bottle with Maria. But apparently not.
“Um, let me think about that, okay? I may have family stuff to do.”
“Okay, that makes sense. What about tonight, though?”
“What about it?”
“Do you want to go for a walk with me?”
“I can’t. Busy. Shopping for Secret Santa.”
“Can I come to that? I wasn’t really set on a walk, and shopping could be fun. I don’t have you again, so it may be easier.”
“Yeah, but it’s supposed to be a secret. That’s kind of the point.”
“Oh, right. I get it. You just…. You had time for Maria and Josie.”
“Oh,” Julian said, caught off guard by Hannah’s sudden accusatory tone. Maybe she wasn’t quite over the spin the bottle. His stomach turned over, wondering if revealing the relationship with Maria would be a good idea. “That was different with them.”
“Yeah, right.”
“It was,” Julian insisted. “Maria wanted me to go with her. I had no choice, really.”
“So that’s it? Maria’s fault, not yours? That’s pretty lame. You can at least take responsibility for what you like.”
“I am. I do. I mean….”
Hannah shifted in the cafeteria seat, throwing her backpack over her shoulder. “Whatever, Julia, just don’t screw around in places you can’t get out of.”
“What?”
“Don’t screw around with your friend group. I should have realized it ages ago.” She turned around from the cafeteria table, her blonde hair bouncing as she walked quickly away. Julian barely had time to register what had happened—what did happen?—before the bell rang. More kids spilled from the hallway, completely obscuring wherever Hannah had gone.
He’d dug his phone out of his pocket, desperate to text Maria a large WTF, when the principal pushed his broad shoulders and thick head through the doorway.
“The bell, students. We need to make our way to classes now. And phones,” Mr. Fisher said, his eyes narrowing on Julian as if he were see-through, “are strictly prohibited.”
Julian hoped his tight-lipped sneer conveyed his emotions toward Mr. Fisher. He slid the phone back into his pocket and turned toward his classroom door. There was always lunch, he figured. Then everything could be sorted out.
“JULIA.”
Julian turned to see the same familiar bob of blonde hair. His heart sank. He turned away from the cafeteria, determined to lose Hannah this time before more trouble was caused.
“Julia, wait! I talked to Maria after I talked to you. And I understand.”
“Wait, what?” Julian asked, stopping. “What did Maria tell you?”
“That you two were dating. And I realize now I’ve been ridiculous. So I want to say I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get angry before. I just… everyone is pairing up, and I’m so, so overwhelmed.”
“She told you we were dating?”
“Uh-huh,” Hannah said. “And really, I’m happy for you guys.”
“She said she’d keep it a secret.”
“Why? You guys work so well together.”
“Ugh.” Julian turned back around to the hallway, threading through the lumps of punk kids and math geeks who loitered in the hallway over lunch. He needed to get to a bathroom, to get somewhere so he could text Maria and ask her what was going on. His mind raced as he composed the text. I thought we were going to be quiet? Why did you tell Hannah without me?
He hint Send and waited by the lockers, ditching his lunch for the time being and grabbing his jacket. Was it so hard for Maria to wait just for a day? And what did she tell Hannah—that they were girlfriends? Boyfriend and girlfriend? Or just dating?
I told Hannah because she wanted to kill you. She thought you were taking advantage of me or something. I don’t know. She had this weird story cooked up from watching Faking It the night before. So I told her to calm her down. Said you were protecting me. Because you are, right?
Julian breathed in harshly through his nose. Yeah. He wanted to protect her. He wanted to hold her like he had inside her bedroom, where no one else could touch them.
But she’s not the final person, Julian wrote back.
Final for what? The three? So who’s the last one?
My dad, Julian wrote, then backspaced. He had wanted to tell his dad tonight when they were out shopping for Kent. He had daydreamed it in a million different ways in a million different scenarios, but for once, he thought he’d do it right.
Now that had been ruined. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. This was not supposed to be how it was all going to happen. Hannah was not the third piece in his little equation. Was she the last one to know now? Julian shuddered. He didn’t want her to know. Maybe at the beginning of the month, but now she seemed unfamiliar and strange. His phone buzzed again. Maria.
Who is the third? she asked again. And what does it matter? You will still have to tell the group, right? They will support you. Three people aren’t the world. It’s just the tester. Right?
Julian stared at the text. He repeated three people aren’t the world in his mind like a hymn. He slammed his locker door shut, then barreled down the hallway. He could still feel his phone going off in his pants pocket. He turned up his iPod, hoping to drown out the chatter of his mind. Maria was right. Three people didn’t make up the world. He’d have to tell everyone again and again who he was, for the rest of his life. Because even if he transitioned and got all the surgeries, there would always be a trace, a leftover photograph hanging on a wall, a pink dress in the bottom of a drawer, a forgotten letter N at the end of his name, or a memory he had with someone else when they thought he was someone else. Even if everyone in his friends group loved and accepted him as Julian, there would always be Aiden.
And that one summer. And the kiss while they played Guitar Hero.
“Ugh,” Julian huffed out loud this time. He didn’t want to explain himself anymore. He just wanted to exist. Maybe that was why, as he walked down the long hallway and past the bathrooms, he went inside the boys’ room. It was so quick and so easy—just a step to the left instead of to the right. As he entered, no alarms or buzzers went off. No bright lights shone in his face to announce that he had violated the law. He just saw the same stone tiles that the girls’ bathroom had.
When he stepped around the corner, the urinals were visible. They were gross and kind of dirty but ultimately benign. But that was the only difference, really. Maybe there were a few more paper towels on the floor of the boy’s bathroom. No pad dispenser on the wall. And the faint smell of Axe body spray along with soap clung to the air. But that was it. It was just a room.
But Julian wanted to be there. No one else was inside, so he figured he may as well use it. As he walked into the last stall and sat down, and nothing bad had happened yet, he grew m
ore confident. Good riddance. This might well be the perfect crime.
Inside the privacy of the stall, he opened his phone again. Maria had sent three more messages.
Julian, Maria wrote. You’re scaring me. Are you okay? What have I done? I didn’t out you or say that you were a girl or a guy or anything. I just… I needed Hannah to not be mad at you because it felt like she was mad at me. I’m sorry. Please eat lunch with us. Or meet me around the corner? I can be outside in a flash, okay?
Okay, Julian responded. Just give me a minute, okay? I’m in the bathroom. I’ll see you outside. By the awning?
He pressed Send, then pocketed his phone. Outside the stall, he headed to the soap dispenser and turned the tap on. When he looked up into the mirror, Aiden had come into the bathroom. His brows furrowed as he recognized Julian right away, and for a glimpse in the mirror, Julian saw the doubt behind his eyes. Doubt that he was a girl.
“Julia? What are—”
“Oh. God.” Julian’s gaze dropped down to the sink again. His phone buzzed, but it felt like the sudden spasm of his own fear. “Oh God. I’m sorry. I’m just….”
When another person came in—a random guy Julian remembered from his math class—he knew he had been discovered. No alarms were going off, but it was clear that his cover was blown. Julian turned off the tap, then bolted out of the bathroom, trying his best to hide his face. Even as Aiden called out to him, he ignored it. He had to. He needed to be somewhere else, anyway.
Just as he rounded the corner of the bathroom, still running as fast as they could go, Julian bumped into someone. When he looked up, he stared directly into the deep-set and sullen eyes of Mr. Fisher.
“Julia. Why are you running in the hallway?”
“Oh God,” Julian moaned again. Plodding footsteps from the bathroom behind him sounded, and so did peals of laughter. Not Aiden’s laugh—Julian knew that for sure. But laughs from the kid in his math class and other, more vitriolic jeers he hadn’t heard in a long, long time. Not since he had hung around Aiden and read what boys had written on Facebook walls.
The Santa Hoax Page 16
