Ruban Nine
.002 -An Octave Higher.
School was hard, especially when you were the only boy at an all girls grammar. Fake blonde Barbie girls can never quite comprehend how you could even imagine not having the seductive powers that are curves. Oh how I despise them. I am subjected to a life of ‘Omg, ken so loves me.’ ‘LOL SECKS IM SO SLUTTTTTY.’ Someone spare a neuron.
Yet, sarcasm aside, I have managed to find some solid friends. One particularly, Beth. The girl who reduces me to scrawled notes of R 4 B across notebooks. There are days I thank the Lord girls find it highly amusing to pretend to be in love. To link arms, kiss each other and type seductive messages over the Internet they are much to sissy to say in person.
Beth was everything I’m not. Talented. Beautiful. An outcast. I’m an utter hopeless train wreck. ‘Boarding for nowhere.’ My latest report card was something of a mess. Except art. I happened to notice I had acquired an Exceeded Potential mark for art. I suppose a gay boy in a females body can prove to be very tiring emotionally.
‘I call this one, The Absence Of A Penis.’
No pun intended.
Beautiful is something I have never become accustomed to. After all, I have manboobs for heavens sake.
Now for the outcast part: I long for a life where I can be left to my own sweet self. The peace and beauty of silence, a noise I rarely have the pleasure of experiencing. Barbie girls have extremely high voices. Oh and did I mention they mega heart gay boys?
Whoop dee fucking doo.
Bitches.
Back to Beth, unbeknownst to her, she is quite literally a dick tease. She pressed all the right buttons and didn’t even know it. Poor naïve Beth. So, review my situation. Girl wishes to be a boy. Loves best friend. Gets to hold friends hand, kiss her on the mouth and feel her up in a platonic way. Whilst each rub and kiss holds an explosion of joy, it also pushes girl deeper into a pit of grimy despair. I found it hard to focus. I found it hard to smile recently. My Mom had called it depression. She had contacted the hospital and arranged for me to see a shrink once a week. My poor Mother’s attempts were futile. So far me and ‘Call me Nicky’ hadn’t got off the ‘And how do you feel about that?’ page.
Fucking amateur.
So, Math, first period, first day, new term. My fingers tapped the desk impatiently as I waited for Beth. Haz walked into the room. She was your run of the mill slut, automatic friend of the gay. Uhm, cough?
"Ohmigod! Ruban, hiiii!" she squealed. "Now, like, I totally have a crush on this guy, Chris, so what should I do about it? I mean you have experience right?" Oh yes, I have experience if you call kissing your best friend whilst drunk, experience.
"Uhh, yeah, of course," I said. "Well, tell me about this Chris…"
"Oh he’s the sweetest guy ever, and he like totally licked me out last night, but I’m not a slut right?" Cue laugh. "But yah, and he’s totally into me it’s obvious right? So I’m like going over there tonight and I might ask him out, ‘cos then I’m guaranteed to have sex…" I abruptly switched my hearing off, grunting whenever her small face begged for a response. It was so odd. I truly felt like a poor ill fortuned boy listening to the school slut’s woes. Luckily Beth walked into the room.
"Urgh, tramp girl’s here, guess I’ll go sit with my friends, thanks for the advice," Haz smiled before hugging me tightly and flouncing over to her desk.
To my complete and utter confusion, Beth glanced at me coldly before sitting down with Eleanor, a girl who got held back a year. That blew my idea of smooth small talk, before I could persuade her to come sing with me at break. Where I could try to unsuccessfully change her orientation to flaming lesbian.
I pulled my sidekick slide out of my backpack (courtesy of rich and guilty ex father) and quickly zapped Beth a message with the general tone of what the fuck? After no reply, I satisfied myself with drawing Beth lying in bed in very revealing clothes. Luckily my poor ability to draw what is actually there, the end product looked little like the original. I decided Beth could wait, I would catch up with her in the hall.
It seemed my brain had other ideas. I registered the bell five seconds too late, Beth’s seat was already vacant by the time I glanced up from my work. I was just quick enough to catch the pink underlay in her long black hair.
Yet, sarcasm aside, I have managed to find some solid friends. One particularly, Beth. The girl who reduces me to scrawled notes of R 4 B across notebooks. There are days I thank the Lord girls find it highly amusing to pretend to be in love. To link arms, kiss each other and type seductive messages over the Internet they are much to sissy to say in person.
Beth was everything I’m not. Talented. Beautiful. An outcast. I’m an utter hopeless train wreck. ‘Boarding for nowhere.’ My latest report card was something of a mess. Except art. I happened to notice I had acquired an Exceeded Potential mark for art. I suppose a gay boy in a females body can prove to be very tiring emotionally.
‘I call this one, The Absence Of A Penis.’
No pun intended.
Beautiful is something I have never become accustomed to. After all, I have manboobs for heavens sake.
Now for the outcast part: I long for a life where I can be left to my own sweet self. The peace and beauty of silence, a noise I rarely have the pleasure of experiencing. Barbie girls have extremely high voices. Oh and did I mention they mega heart gay boys?
Whoop dee fucking doo.
Bitches.
Back to Beth, unbeknownst to her, she is quite literally a dick tease. She pressed all the right buttons and didn’t even know it. Poor naïve Beth. So, review my situation. Girl wishes to be a boy. Loves best friend. Gets to hold friends hand, kiss her on the mouth and feel her up in a platonic way. Whilst each rub and kiss holds an explosion of joy, it also pushes girl deeper into a pit of grimy despair. I found it hard to focus. I found it hard to smile recently. My Mom had called it depression. She had contacted the hospital and arranged for me to see a shrink once a week. My poor Mother’s attempts were futile. So far me and ‘Call me Nicky’ hadn’t got off the ‘And how do you feel about that?’ page.
Fucking amateur.
So, Math, first period, first day, new term. My fingers tapped the desk impatiently as I waited for Beth. Haz walked into the room. She was your run of the mill slut, automatic friend of the gay. Uhm, cough?
"Ohmigod! Ruban, hiiii!" she squealed. "Now, like, I totally have a crush on this guy, Chris, so what should I do about it? I mean you have experience right?" Oh yes, I have experience if you call kissing your best friend whilst drunk, experience.
"Uhh, yeah, of course," I said. "Well, tell me about this Chris…"
"Oh he’s the sweetest guy ever, and he like totally licked me out last night, but I’m not a slut right?" Cue laugh. "But yah, and he’s totally into me it’s obvious right? So I’m like going over there tonight and I might ask him out, ‘cos then I’m guaranteed to have sex…" I abruptly switched my hearing off, grunting whenever her small face begged for a response. It was so odd. I truly felt like a poor ill fortuned boy listening to the school slut’s woes. Luckily Beth walked into the room.
"Urgh, tramp girl’s here, guess I’ll go sit with my friends, thanks for the advice," Haz smiled before hugging me tightly and flouncing over to her desk.
To my complete and utter confusion, Beth glanced at me coldly before sitting down with Eleanor, a girl who got held back a year. That blew my idea of smooth small talk, before I could persuade her to come sing with me at break. Where I could try to unsuccessfully change her orientation to flaming lesbian.
I pulled my sidekick slide out of my backpack (courtesy of rich and guilty ex father) and quickly zapped Beth a message with the general tone of what the fuck? After no reply, I satisfied myself with drawing Beth lying in bed in very revealing clothes. Luckily my poor ability to draw what is actually there, the end product looked little like the original. I decided Beth could wait, I would catch up with her in the hall.
It seemed my brain had other ideas. I registered the bell five seconds too late, Beth’s seat was already vacant by the time I glanced up from my work. I was just quick enough to catch the pink underlay in her long black hair.