A girl’s voice said, “It’ll be a sad day when Kleinhorst and Whitney are our standards of excellence!”
The audience hooted and laughed in agreement.
The idiots didn’t know what to do—no one was coming to their defense. The one who seemed to be Kleinhorst dropped the tray with the empty milk glass on our table and pushed past the other guy to walk away, muttering something about not wasting his time with creeps. Whitney, I guess he was, followed.
“Go, Sebastian,” the male voice said. “You told those jerks.” This time I turned around in time to locate the voice. It belonged to Russ Gallo, a guy from our TV Production class.
Russ was different from the rest of the crew in TV. On the whole the class seemed to attract the less admired high school kids: the skinny, the flabby, the clumsy, the zitty, and now, obviously, the transgendered. Maybe because we liked hiding out behind the camera, I don’t know. But anyway, Russ Gallo didn’t fit the stereotype. He wasn’t an Adonis, but he was a good-looking, happy guy who seemed to have a million friends. Although apparently not Kleinhorst or Whitney.
He walked over to where Sebastian and I were sitting, pulling a blue denim shirt out of his backpack.
“Hey, I’ve got an extra shirt,” he said. “I brought it yesterday for my cable interview with the band teacher. Mr. Reed said I couldn’t just wear a T-shirt. You can give it back to me in class one of these days.”
“Thanks,” I said, taking the shirt from him.
“Don’t let those idiots get to you, man. They’re brain-dead.”
I didn’t know what to say. Russ Gallo was acting like I was a normal person.
I hadn’t noticed someone else walking up behind him until she said, “I heard you changed your name. What is it now?”
And there stood Kita Charles, Russ Gallo’s amazingly beautiful girlfriend, speaking to me.
“Um, well, I haven’t changed it legally . . . yet. But I’m going by the name of Grady now.”
She nodded. “Grady. I like it. There’s ‘gray’ in it—my favorite color.”
I was amazed. She got it. But I didn’t say anything; I couldn’t. Kita Charles was the kind of person you couldn’t stop looking at, and that was distracting my brain from coming up with words. From what I’d heard, Kita’s mother was Japanese and her father was African American. In Kita the combination of racial backgrounds had produced a stunner. Her skin was like polished oak, and she wore her black hair in long dreads. People who didn’t know her heritage guessed all kinds of things: Egyptian, Italian, Filipino, Israeli. But she wasn’t just one thing. You couldn’t take her apart and say, Ah yes, that part is Japanese; that part is African. She was a perfectly mixed combination—her own unique person. And sitting there in the glow of her attention, I was speechless.
Russ looked at her quizzically. “Gray is your favorite color? Gray? It’s not even a color!”
Kita sighed and smiled at me. “Oh, Russell,” she said. “Sometimes you are so totally normal, I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend.”
Chapter Eight
I asked Sebastian if he wanted to come home with me after school, mostly because I didn’t want to walk home alone. He probably knew that, but he came anyway. I’d forgotten to warn him that we were going to Santa’s Village, and his mouth dropped open when he saw which yard I was turning into.
“Wait,” he said. “You live here?”
“Well, somebody has to,” I said.
“Oh my God,” he said, turning in circles to take it all in. “We used to come here. When I was little. I remember that Santa stuffed into the chimney and those teddy bears and that—”
“I know, I know. We’re part of everybody’s magical childhood memories,” I said, waiting for him to laugh at it all with me. He didn’t.
“The Barbies are still here too!” he said, pointing.
Obviously, nobody ever forgets the Barbies. “So were you ever here at night?” I asked. “When the curtains were open?”
I could tell he was sorting through forgotten images. His face lit up. “Yeah! You could see right inside the house! There was a toy train, and a whole bunch of presents, and an old guy in a funny smashed hat who came around and lit the fireplaces!”
“The old guy was my dad.”
He smacked me on the arm. “You are so lucky!”
“You are so out of your mind.”
As we walked inside, Sebastian fingered the fake icicles hanging over the back door as if they’d been placed there by Jolly Old St. Nick himself. It was practically unheard of for me to bring any friends home except Eve, so I expected Mom to greet Sebastian with great relief and celebration. I was unaware, however, that there were several crises currently unfolding in the Katz-McNair household which were demanding all her attention.
Before we could see her, we could hear Laura screaming, “Make him stop it!” while Charlie drummed his fists on the kitchen counter and sang in an off-key tenor.
“The dogs crawl in, the dogs crawl out, the dogs play pig knuckles on your snout.”
“It’s ‘pinochle,’ not ‘pig’s knuckles,’” Mom said as she applied a goopy white cream to Laura’s left knee and elbow. “Pinochle is a card game.”
“Mom!” Laura choked out her words. “He’s saying ‘dogs’ and it’s ‘worms’! Worms crawl in, worms crawl out—not dogs!” It was then that I noticed the purple eye shadow and black mascara dripping down my sister’s face.
“What happened to you?” I asked her.
But Charlie kept up his refrain, getting louder and louder. “They eat your eyes, they eat your nose, they eat the jelly between your toes. A big green dog with rolling eyes, crawls in your stomach and out your eyes.”
“Make him stop!” Laura shrieked, and then she began to sob.
“Your stomach turns a slimy green, and pus pours out like whipping cream—”
“Stop singing that silly song,” Mom said. “Your sister’s going crazy, and I’m not far behind her.”
“I’m going to keep singing until I get a dog!” Charlie said. “I don’t see why I can’t have a dog!”
“First of all, I’m allergic to dogs,” Mom said. She slapped a big piece of gauze on Laura’s arm and began to tape it down. “And secondly, I’m not taking care of a dog now, on top of everything else.”
“I’ll take care of it—I promise! I need something to play with!” Charlie said. “How about a hamster?”
“No, Charlie!”
Sebastian took it all in with amazement. I couldn’t have written a better scene myself.
“Did you fall down?” I asked Laura, trying again.
She stopped crying and raised a furious face toward me. “Oh, right, act like you’re all concerned about me. Like it’s not all your fault.”
“Laura, it’s not your sister’s . . . I mean, your . . .” Mom gave up and sighed. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s all my fault.”
“Are you going to tell me what happened to Laura?” I asked Mom this time.
“She fell down on the way home. She was running, and there was a tree root, and she didn’t see it—”
Laura interrupted Mom’s calm explanation to give me her version of events. “I was running because Mira and Sarah and Brit and everybody I’ve ever met want to ask me questions about my weird sister, and I don’t know what to tell them. I was running home because I’m humiliated that the entire school knows I’m related to the most bizarre person they’ve ever heard of. That’s why I fell down.”
Fortunately, I didn’t have to answer this charge immediately, because Charlie started to sing again. “Found a puppy, found a puppy, found a puppy just now. I just now found a puppy, found a puppy just now. Had a worm in it, had a worm in it—”
“I hate you! All of you!” Laura sobbed as she ran from the kitchen.
“Charlie, be quiet,” Mom demanded. “I have enough on my mind without—”
“If I can’t have a dog, then I should at least be allowed to go to a regular middle school nex
t year instead of being stuck at home, just me and Daniel and our mothers every day. It’s boring.”
Mom turned her back on him and only then did she see that I had someone with me. “Oh dear, I didn’t realize . . .”
“This is Sebastian Shipley. He’s in my TV Production class,” I told her.
Sebastian stuck out his small hand. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Katz-McNair.”
I could tell she was surprised by this polite miniature person. “It’s nice to meet you too, Sebastian,” she said, giving his hand a half-hearted shake. “I’m sorry you had to walk in on this scene. Laura’s very emotional these days, and every little thing seems to set her off.”
“Well, I guess having your sister suddenly become your brother might not seem like a little thing to her.”
Mom looked sort of pale; she obviously wasn’t getting any more comfortable with my new gender as the days went by.
“Are you two hungry?” she asked, deftly changing the subject.
But before we could reply, Charlie interrupted again. “You don’t understand anything! I need a dog! I swear to God I’m getting myself a dog. I’ll go to a shelter and get one by myself! I swear to God!”
“You’re not swearing to anybody, do you hear me?” It took Mom awhile to lose her temper, especially with Charlie, but once the point was reached, there was no going back. Her voice careened into the soprano range and blew right into Charlie’s face. “You’re going to your room, and you’ll stay there until I tell you to come out! And I don’t want to hear a word about it!”
I motioned to Sebastian to follow me back outside.
“Whoa! Some family!” he said as if he were complimenting me.
“Not like yours?”
He snorted. “My mother never raises her voice—it gives her a headache. But then, she never really has to. I mean, I’m the only kid, and I’m damn near perfect.”
“I’m sure. She never argues with your dad?”
“Not in living memory,” he said. “He works about twelve hours a day, so he’s not around that much. He’s a big-deal lawyer.”
“I guess he makes a lot of money.”
Sebastian shrugged. “I guess. But making money is stupid. I mean, you have to make some money, but I want to do something that actually matters when I’m an adult. Otherwise, why bother to be an adult? Just so you can buy stuff?”
This was not the kind of conversation I was used to having with anyone. But I enjoyed this kid, I really did. I liked the way I never knew what was going to come out of his mouth next. So I decided to broach the topic I’d been thinking about since lunchtime.
“That was really cool the way Russ Gallo came over and gave me his shirt,” I said, sneaking up on my real topic of interest. “I’ve never even spoken to him before.”
“Yeah, Russ is a good guy. You know, I was thinking, if you’re gonna be a boy now, maybe you oughta get some more muscles. Like, work out or something. So if people push you around, you can push back.”
I shrugged. “Not really too interested in muscles.”
He grabbed my upper arm between his thumb and first finger. “Pretty skimpy for a guy.”
“You should talk!”
“Hey, nobody spilled milk on me today!”
I dragged the conversation back to my original direction. “I thought Russ’s girlfriend seemed nice too,” I said.
“Kita? I guess. I don’t know her very well,” Sebastian said. My heart had begun to sputter when he said her name out loud. Kita Charles. I’d never heard a more beautiful name.
“So, have they been together for a long time or what?”
“I think so. Since last year anyway.”
“Huh. That’s pretty long for high school.”
Sebastian shrugged.
“I mean, you know, Kita’s so pretty. You’d think she’d be dating lots of different guys.”
Sebastian stopped walking and looked over at me. “What? Do you like Kita?”
“No!” I yelled. “God, where’d you get that idea? I was just asking how long—”
“Okay, okay, don’t get your panties in a twist.”
The fear that seized me when Sebastian made his correct guess came out of nowhere. I wasn’t expecting him to figure me out, and I wasn’t expecting myself to flip out about it. But what if he told somebody that I liked Kita? It would be bad enough if I were just the school lesbian—imagine the hoopla that would ensue now that I was out as transgendered! If Kita knew I liked her like that, she’d probably be as disgusted as everybody else. Everybody but goofy Sebastian.
“God, Sebastian,” I continued, trying to calm my racing heart. “Just because I asked you a simple question about somebody—”
“Look, I don’t care if you like her. Kita’s a beautiful girl, and she’s nice, too. I wouldn’t blame you for liking her.”
“Well, I don’t, okay? Not the way you mean.”
We didn’t speak for a few minutes after that. We were wandering aimlessly down the hill by my house, and I was trying to think of an excuse to go home without Sebastian following me, when I noticed who was coming up the hill toward us. “Turn here!” I said, taking Sebastian’s arm and pulling him around the corner and ten yards down the block where we’d no longer be visible to the approaching party.
“What are we doing?” Sebastian looked expectant.
“There are some girls coming up the hill. They’re going to Eve Patrick’s house, and I . . . well, I don’t want her to see me. Especially when she’s with them.”
“Who’s them?” he whispered conspiratorially.
“These girls she hangs around with now—Danya somebody, and Melanie and Zoe. Danya’s a real jerk.”
Sebastian nodded. “Danya Seifert,” he said. “Known her since elementary school. She’s a big bully.”
I grunted. “I guess so. I don’t usually think of girls as bullies.”
“Not all girls are alike, as you know.”
I shook my head. “I don’t get it. Why does Eve even want to hang around with her? There must be other girls who’d be nicer to her.”
“They all want to be Danya’s friend,” Sebastian said. “Because if you aren’t her friend, you could be her enemy. And believe me, that’s a lot worse.”
“The awful thing is that being around these creeps is turning Eve into a creep too.”
“She used to be a good friend, huh?” Sebastian said. If your IQ was based on how well you guessed personal stuff about other people, this guy would be a genius. Actually, he probably was a genius.
“My best friend. Now we hardly speak.”
He nodded, then paced quietly back toward the corner.
I followed. “Don’t let them see you!”
“I just want to listen,” he said.
They stopped in front of Eve’s house. It wasn’t hard to hear them, especially Danya, whose voice was like a trumpet.
“I just don’t get how you could ever be friends with her. Or it, or whatever. Didn’t you know she was a pervert?”
I think Eve answered her, but her voice was too quiet to hear.
“If I was like that, I’d just go ahead and kill myself. I really would. I couldn’t stand to be such a sicko. I’m telling you, Eve, if I find out you spoke to that deviant, even once—and I will find out if you do—you will be very sorry. In fact, you’ll regret it for a long time!”
Suddenly I felt dizzy, and my legs wobbled a little. Danya thought I ought to kill myself? Jesus, I didn’t even know this girl, and she wanted me dead! The worst I’d ever wished on her was that her mouth be magically sewn shut for a week or two. And she also seemed to be threatening Eve. My stomach was suddenly sour with guilt. Had I put my former best friend into this awful situation? Or had she done it to herself? Why did she want to be friends with Danya to begin with?
Sebastian snorted, and before I could stop him, he was going around the corner, heading toward the girls. “No!” I said, but it was too late.
“I couldn’t help overheari
ng you, Danya,” he said as he walked up to the group.
She swiveled around and glared at him. “Where’d you come from, Tiny Tim?”
He ignored that and said, “I was just wondering if you might be talking about my friend Grady.” He gestured toward the corner, and all four girls looked in my direction. Crap. I could run away and hope they hadn’t already seen me, but that seemed more cowardly than the situation demanded. I could walk around the corner as if I’d just been headed in that direction anyway, which no one would believe for a second, but at least there’d be no chance for them to watch my sorry butt retreating down the street like a whipped puppy.
I sauntered around the corner. Damn you, Sebastian Shipley.
Danya’s face pulled itself in tight as if I had a skunk in my pocket. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here. Over there,” I said, pointing in the general direction of Peace and Joy.
Zoe sucked in a big breath. “Oh, it’s the Christmas House! You live in the Christmas House?”
I nodded.
“I always loved that place,” she said, smiling. Until she caught a glimpse of Danya’s glowering mug.
“Are you speaking to it?” she asked Zoe.
Zoe’s face turned white. “No! I was just surprised! I didn’t know—”
“Well, shut up,” Danya ordered. Zoe clamped her lips together and looked down at the sidewalk.
“I always loved Grady’s house when I was a kid too,” Sebastian said, as if we were all having a normal conversation. “I always thought, Wow, whoever goes to all that trouble just to make kids happy must be really great. I bet a wonderful family lives there.”
Danya glared at him. “Are you under the impression that we give a damn what you think?”
But Sebastian babbled on. “See, it’s this thing about you calling my friend Grady a pervert, when really he’s just a transgendered person. Which is not all that unusual, actually. If you were interested in doing some research, there are lots of sites on the Internet—”
“Believe me, shorty, I’m not in the least interested. Get lost, both of you.”
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