Identify

by Lesley Choyce

  “Skylar,” Gabe said, “I was wondering if you’d mind if I borrowed your makeup?”

  I could tell her tone was sarcastic, but I wasn’t sure where she was going with it.

  Skylar stared at Gabe in disbelief. The other girls looked equally shocked. Then Skylar went nuts. “Are you out of your mind?” she shouted. “I’m not lending anything to you. How dare you ask me something like that?” She gave Gabe a look of pure loathing and then yelled at her again. “Lesbo!” She sputtered something else I couldn’t really hear, but I bet it was something vile. Then Skylar turned and walked away, her posse at her heels.

  Gabe just stood there calmly. Half the kids in school had frozen in their tracks to watch the end of the little drama. Gabe raised her voice just slightly as she said to the quickly disappearing Skylar, “I guess I’ll take that as a no?”

  Gabe walked back over to me, ignoring the stares. “Funny that she called me that,” Gabe said to me, her voice still raised. “I don’t even like girls.” Then she grabbed my arm and walked me down the hall, all eyes still on us.

  When I was able to speak again, I asked her, “Where’d you learn how to do that? To control yourself? To not freak out with everyone watching?”

  “I taught myself,” Gabe said, obviously proud of the ruckus she had caused. “Someone can say or do anything to you, but it’s up to you how you react.”

  Chapter Five

  That afternoon Gabe invited me to her house so we could do our homework together. Her mom was in the kitchen, and Gabe yelled, “I’m home,” but she didn’t introduce me. “C’mon,” she said and led me upstairs to her bedroom. While we were there she turned her back to me and changed her shirt. She did this as if I wasn’t even there, as if she wasn’t the slightest bit self-conscious. It kind of freaked me out. Then I followed her back downstairs, and we cracked open our textbooks in the living room.

  The downer had worn off, and my head was perfectly clear. I felt nervous being alone with Gabe, but I knew she didn’t want me to take another pill. We sat side by side on the sofa, and I could feel her warmth beside me. It was so quiet that I could also hear her breathing, and after a while I noticed that my breathing was perfectly in sync with hers. It was more than a little hard to concentrate on my world history text.

  But the funny thing was, I did well on the quiz the next day. Without even asking, I walked Gabe home after school, and she started coaching me on math, my weakest subject. She was very patient and walked me through some of the things I had been missing that year at school.

  “You have a way of somehow getting it all to make sense. Before, it just seemed like gibberish,” I told her.

  “Thanks,” she replied. “That’s good to hear. I think I may want to be a teacher someday. I just don’t know if I’d ever get a job or if kids would accept me the way I am.”

  I didn’t really know what she meant by that, but I wanted to. I knew there was a discussion she and I had to have sometime down the road. But I wasn’t ready for that yet.

  At school I noticed kids looking at us when we walked down the hall together. I didn’t know why, but I had taken to wearing flannel shirts and jeans like she did. Whenever someone was rude enough to stare at us, Gabe prompted me to stare right back. I’d pop a downer once in a while, if I was on my own and the old anxiety monster was creeping up on me, but it was much less often. I found myself actually listening in class rather than just drifting through school as if in a dream.

  Because of her, my life now seemed to have meaning and purpose. But one part of me still expected it all to shatter. Things were getting worse at my house, and I found myself hanging out at Gabe’s house until five or six o’ clock before heading home to a burned dinner and screaming parents.

  When I was alone with my thoughts, I still thought of her as Gabriella, which seemed liked the sexiest name on the planet, but if I tried calling her that, she always insisted I call her Gabe. I knew I had strong feelings for her, and I couldn’t get her out of my head. But I also knew I was confused about many things.

  Finally, during one of those quiet after-school study times, I decided to tell her how I felt. “Gabe, I think I’m falling in love with you,” I blurted out.

  She stopped reading and looked up at me. “Whoa. Slow down, buddy. How many other girls have you ever been close with?”

  “None,” I admitted.

  “My point exactly. Maybe you don’t know what love is. Maybe it’s just a word you heard.”

  “And maybe not.”

  Gabe took a deep breath. “Well, then, maybe you like me because I’m a girl who likes to dress like a boy and act like a boy.”

  “I don’t think you act like a guy.”

  “But I do. I think more like a guy and act more like a guy. Haven’t you noticed?”

  Well, I’d noticed she wasn’t like other girls, but I just thought she was different. “Oh shit,” I blurted out. “Does that mean I’m, like, gay?”

  A hint of a smile erased her super-serious look. “No, dork. It just means you’re a little confused. Like a lot of us.” “What if I like you, if I have these feelings for you, just because…” For a few seconds I was stumped. I wasn’t sure how to end that sentence. “Because you are…well, you.”

  “Now that makes more sense,” she said with a big smile. She leaned toward me, and I almost thought she was going to kiss me. Instead, she made a fist and, ever so gently, knocked on my forehead. “Now let’s get back to work,” she said.

  Chapter Six

  When I got home, I found my mom and dad sitting in the living room. They were oddly quiet. Usually I had to tiptoe past them as they argued and slink off to my bedroom. But this time I didn’t.

  “What’s up?” I asked, sitting down on the sofa.

  My dad looked at me with a hangdog face and then stared at the rug.

  “Your father has lost his job,” my mother said.

  “They let me go,” he said. “It wasn’t my fault. Things are just slowing down.”

  I didn’t say what I wanted to say. I knew he had come home early a few times because he’d been caught drinking on the job. My dad had problems. He’d be the first to admit it. But now wasn’t the time to bring them up.

  “They say there’s lots of construction work up north. I’m thinking I should go up there, get a job and then move you guys up as soon as I can find a place.”

  My mom said nothing, but I could tell by the look on her face that she hated the idea. I hated the idea. How could he do this to us? Do this to me? It just wasn’t fair.

  The silence filled the room. I felt the old anxiety grab my shoulders and squeeze. “I’m not moving,” I announced and got up to go to my room.

  I sat down on my bed and started writing a text to Gabe. Then I remembered she’d told me she didn’t really do texting. She thought people walking around texting looked like zombies. I tried calling her cell phone but only got a message. “Call me, Gabe,” I said after the beep. “Please.”

  She didn’t return my call.

  After about a half hour of me sitting in my room staring at the wall and trying to fend off my demons, I decided to go back to her house.

  Her father answered the door. He looked a little suspicious of me. “Yes?”

  “Hi. I’m Gabe’s friend from school. Is she home?” I asked.

  “Gabriella is in her room,” her father answered curtly. “Could you please tell her I’m here?” But Gabe was already coming down the stairs.

  “Sorry, Ethan,” she said. “I don’t usually get phone messages. I just noticed you called.”

  Her dad was still eyeing me suspiciously. Gabe looked at him. “Dad, this is my friend Ethan,” she said matter-of-factly. And then, after a pause, “We study together.”

  “Hi, Ethan,” her dad said, maybe a bit reluctantly. “C’mon in.”

  I followed Gabe into the living room while her father headed into the kitchen. I told her about my dad losing his job and that we might have to move.

&
nbsp; “What is it with parents?” she asked. “Why do they have to be in charge of everything? They just don’t get it at all.” She seemed angry about something too.

  “So are we talking about my parents or yours?”

  “All parents. By the time you hit sixteen, you should be able to make all your own decisions. You shouldn’t have to do what they want.”

  “Agreed.” I could tell that she was really upset, but I also realized it probably wasn’t about my situation. “Gabe, what’s going on?”

  She took a deep breath. “My parents have been getting flak from other parents in the neighborhood.”

  “About what?”

  “About me. They say I’m a bad influence on their younger kids.”

  “In what way?”

  “’Cause I don’t look or act like a normal girl.”

  “That’s crazy!”

  “Yeah, but it reinforces what my parents have been feeling all along. And I haven’t even told them about the hate mail I’ve been getting. I had to delete my accounts. It was just getting too weird, too nasty. You wouldn’t believe the things people write about me.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t even know. Is it really so bad that I don’t dress the proper way or act the way I’m supposed to?”

  Gabe looked like she was about to cry, and that didn’t seem like her at all.

  “I’m feeling like maybe there really is something wrong with me,” she said. “I agreed to go talk to the minister at my parents’ church. I used to go there too, but I stopped a couple of years back. It just wasn’t for me.”

  “What did the minister say?”

  “He tried to be nice, but it was really awkward. I’m not sure he even understood why I was there. I wasn’t so sure why I was there, but I was trying to please my parents. In the end, he just looked at me and said, You know, Gabriella, God loves us all. This wasn’t exactly what my parents wanted to hear. In the end, he gave them the name of some frigging teen counselor. So now I have to go do that.”

  “Don’t do it,” I told her. “There’s nothing wrong with you. In fact, you’re the greatest person I ever met.”

  She smiled. “Thanks for saying that. But I told them I’d go. Just to keep them off my back. Will you go with me?”

  “Definitely,” I said.

  Chapter Seven

  When I walked into my house later that night, my mother was sitting at the kitchen table crying.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “It’s your father. He went out tonight. He was drinking. Then he smashed up the car and got arrested for drunk driving.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “I think so. But he's been charged and is being held at the police station.”

  “We have to go down there, Mom.”

  “No,” she said. “He deserves to be in jail.” She sounded really angry now.

  “We need to bring him home,” I insisted.

  At first my mom just sat there. But then she wiped the tears from her eyes, blew her nose and picked up the keys to her car hanging on the wall. Neither of us spoke a word on the ride to the police station.

  By the time we arrived, my mom had pulled herself together, and she told me to sit in the waiting room while she talked to the police. As I sat there worrying about my dad, I had my first panic attack in quite a while. I was finding it hard to breathe, and I started shaking. I leaned over and put my head between my knees.

  A cop walking through the waiting room saw me. “Hey,” he said, sitting down beside me. “You’re looking like you’re in pretty rough shape. You in trouble?”

  I took a gulp of air and straightened up. “Not me. My dad.”

  “The guy who smashed up his car?”

  “That’s my dad.”

  “He was pretty wasted. The good news is, he didn’t get anybody killed and he didn’t get hurt.”

  “He lost his job,” I offered by way of explanation.

  “I did the same damn thing once. Got fired. Got loaded. Got into an accident. It’s what we men do.”

  It seemed really weird that this cop was trying to make me feel better.

  “I’m Officer Dave Newton, by the way,” he said and stuck out his hand for me to shake. “They call me Do-Good Dave.”

  “Do-Good Dave?” I said.

  “Yep,” he said. “Once they tag you with a nickname like that, it sticks. Can I get you a Coke or something?”

  “No, thanks.”

  “You got a name, kid?”

  “Ethan.”

  “Well, Ethan,” said Dave, “I gotta go. Your dad’s in trouble, but it’s not the end of the world. He’ll get past it. Just don’t let him drink and drive again.” Then he handed me a business card, adding, “Take this. If you need to, give me a call.”

  “Thanks,” I said as he got up to go. I sat there, feeling a little better, realizing it was probably the only time in my life I’d ever had a conversation with a cop. I had always expected them to be pushy and cold. This guy wasn’t. And I was thankful for it.

  My dad looked really bad when my mom finally walked him through to the waiting room. When he saw me, he dropped his eyes and let my mom lead him out of the station.

  Once we were home, they got into a really horrible fight. Mom started screaming first. Then he got going. It was loud and it was nasty. I tried to get them to cool down, but then they both started shouting at me, telling me to shut up and go to my room. Fine.

  In my room, I started to feel that old familiar anxiety as the yelling continued. I opened a drawer and looked at my stash of pills. I really needed something if I was going to make it through the night.

  I was holding one in my hand when I heard something smash downstairs. I ran partway down the stairs and saw a lamp in pieces on the floor. Everything had gone really quiet. Then my dad started to cry, and my mom started to as well. I didn’t know what to do. I just stood there, watching my family going to pieces. Then I turned and headed back up to my room, popping the pill into my mouth and swallowing.

  Chapter Eight

  My parents were silent at breakfast. Usually I’d just grab a piece of toast and run out the door. But today I decided to sit down with them. Without asking, my mom shoveled some scrambled eggs onto my plate.

  “I’m sorry you had to see me like that,” my dad said. “That was really stupid of me. I’m gonna try to make things right.”

  My mom gave me a weak smile. I didn’t even know what he meant by that, but I knew he was a good man. He just had a bad habit of really screwing things up sometimes.

  “I’ll lose my license,” my dad said. “I’ll have to go to court. We can’t move until after that.”

  I wanted to remind him that I didn’t want to move at all, but I didn’t have the nerve to say it out loud again. “I’m gonna hang out with Gabe after school again today,” I said. “We’re going to do some homework.” What I didn’t say was that I was actually going with her to see that counselor, something we were both really nervous about. But Gabe had been there when I needed her, so it was the least I could do for her.

  “You should really bring her around the house sometime,” my dad said. “I’d like to meet her.”

  “I think we better wait until things settle down around here,” said my mom.

  I didn’t see Gabe until third period. Kids had been looking at me funny all day. I figured they knew about my father and his accident. Leave it to Josh to be the one to say something to my face.

  “Ethan, ol’ buddy,” he said. “I hear your old man got shit-faced and drove the family car into a tree.”

  Gabe had just found me and was about to come to my defense. But I wanted to show her that I’d learned a few lessons from her. “Thanks for the concern, Josh,” I said flatly. “It’s much appreciated.” Deep down I was rattled, but I wasn’t about to show it.

  Josh just kind of blinked and seemed truly disappointed he had not gotten to me. Strangely enough, when he realized I wasn’t going to react, he just walked
away.

  “Good work,” Gabe said. “You handled that nicely. What was that about anyway?”

  I told her what had happened.

  “That’s terrible. Has your father done things like that before?”

  “Never. I’m really worried.”

  “Anything I can do to help?” Gabe asked.

  “Not really. Just be my friend,” I said although friend wasn’t really the word I meant.

  Gabe looked at me with a sad, soft smile. “You still want to go to that counselor with me today?”

  “Absolutely. It might even help keep my mind off the trouble at home.”

  The counselor was a woman in her early thirties who had an office above a coffee shop. She had insisted on seeing Gabe without her parents, but Gabe had convinced her to let me come along. She invited us to call her by her first name, Elizabeth or Liz.

  “Gabriella,” she said once we were seated, “I’m going to be asking you some pretty personal questions. Are you sure you want Ethan to be part of this?”

  “I’m sure,” said Gabe. “But please call me Gabe.”

  “Of course. Well, Gabe, why don’t you tell me why you are here.”

  “Because my parents wanted me to come. I’m doing it for them.”

  “Yes, I spoke with them, and they expressed concern for you. They want you to be happy.”

  “I’m sure they do,” Gabe said. “But their idea of happy isn’t mine. I think if people would just leave me alone, I’d be perfectly fine.”

  “What do you mean by being left alone?” the counselor asked.

  “I mean, no one should tell me how to look or how to act.”

  “Does it make you angry when people do that?”

  “Yeah, it does. I guess that’s why I had that big blow-up with my parents. They were treating me like a little kid. They started lecturing me again about how I should dress. It really pissed me off.”