My Name Is Kyle

I decide that week that I’m going to ask the school if I can change in the boys’ locker room and use the boys’ restroom. I’m sure that they’d have little conflict with that, but it’s getting my mother on board that I’m more worried about .
One night, when we’re eating dinner, I ask as politely as I can, “Mom? Do you think that I may change in the boys’ room, please?”
My mom stops eating and slams her silverware down. “Go to your room, Kylin.”
I glare back at her and stand, shouting, “It’s Kyle!” before sprinting up the steps.
I lay in my bed, crying, when I hear my mom’s gentle knock on the door. “Go away!”
“Kylin, I’m coming in,” my mother responds.
“Don’t call me that!” I bark, still sobbing.
My mom opens the door and enters, sitting next to me. I scooch away from her, but she still places a hand on my back, reminding softly, “Well, it is your name.”
“I’m gonna change it when I’m 18!” I retort. “And I’m going to have a sex change! And you’ll finally leave me alone!”
My mother rubs my back, replying calmly, “I’d never leave you alone. You’re my daughter…”
“SON!” I interrupt.
“Kylin Elizabeth, calm yourself down right now,” she orders. I try to do as she says, but can’t help but break out in more tears. Since I can’t see my mother, I’m not sure, but I think that she feels sorry for me.
“Honey, I know you’ve had a rough time with bullying for God knows how long…” she begins. “But I think that all this would do is bring it back. So do you understand why I don’t want you to do this?”
I nod. I understand; I’m just pissed. She pats me on the back, dismissing,
“I love you, Kylin.”
“Love you too,” I mutter. I hear her leave, and then I sneak out of my window. I walk in the darkness, finding Thurston’s home with ease.
I throw teeny pebbles at Thurston’s window to get his attention, just like they do in the 80s movies . His light in his room is on, and I can totally see him. He’s sitting on the couch in his underwear , holding Charlie and scratching his ear as he watches TV. He finally notices me, and rises, putting Charlie in his cage. He goes to his closet and throws on a button down before opening the window with some effort ; but he leaves it undone so there was really not much of a purpose to putting it on in the first place.
“Kyle? What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Can I come in?” I question.
Thurston nods, and holds up a pointer finger before leaving his room. About a minute later, the front door opens. “Are you okay?”
I nod as I step in. He closes the door behind me and holds my hand as we go up the stairs. “I just need someone to talk to. By the way, with the light on you can totally see into your room.”
Thurston blushes and curses, “Shit! Really? Ugh, there’s a girl across the street who really likes me, and there’s no doubt in my ind that she’s been peeping through my window.”
I laugh, and Thurston smiles his lopsided smile. We make it to the room and sit down on the couch. We sit facing each other, Indian style. He takes my hands and asks,
“What do you need to talk about?”
“It’s my mom,” I answer. “Thurston…. At this rate…. She’ll never accept me. She won’t even call me Kyle.”
Thurston looks confused. “Kyle isn’t your name?”
I shake my head no. “It’s actually Kylin. Kyle is my new name.”
Thurston nods and says, “Well you know the old saying.”
“That blood is thicker than water,” I mumble.
Thurston frowns. “What? No. That’s not the whole saying. The whole saying is, ‘The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water from the womb. Understand?”
“So… what you’re saying is…. Friends that you make can be more important than the family you’re forced to be with,” I respond.
Thurston nods, adding, “And it’s true. Just think, she won’t be in your whole life if you don’t want her to be.”
I take that into consideration. “I’m already leaning against her after I graduate. I want to change my name legally to Kyle, and I’ve started a sex change surgery fund when I was young.”
Thurston nods, but then looks uncomfortable. “If you want to get a sex change more because I like dick, you… you don’t have to do that.”
“Oh honey, I swear, it’s really just for me,” I assure.
“Good. Does your mom know you’re here?”
Shit, does he know me. “I left a note.”
“You might want to go home,” Thurston suggests. He stands and slips into some jeans, mentioning, “I’ll walk you.”
As soon as we’re off his house’s block, he lights up a cigarette and he sucks on it as though it was a breathing mechanism and he was underwater.
“Do your friends know you smoke?” I ask .
Thurston shakes his head. “Only Bo. He’s not too crazy about it.”
“What’d he say?”
“He’s trying to get me to quit,” Thurston answers.
I nod. “Sounds like you’ve got a pretty good friend.”
“Yeah, he’s a really good guy. Warm-hearted,” Thurston agrees. He exhales thoughtfully. “I’m glad he and Lee are finally together.”
“Actually, it’s not official yet,” I inform .
“Well it should be,” Thurston mutters.
We reach my house, and I offer,
“Want to meet my mom?”
“I…..uh….” Thurston stammers.
“It’s fine; she’ll think that me dating you means I want to be a girl again. Oh, she’ll like you a lot,” I tell. I take his hand and step into the house.
“Mom! I want you to meet somebody,” I call.
My mom appears, and greets, “Hello.”
“Mom this is Thurston,” I introduce .
“Hi, Thurston. Nice to meet you.” Damn, my mom can really be nice when she wants to be.
“Hi, Ms. Hyde, the pleasure is all mine,” Thurston replies .
“Would you like to have dinner with us tomorrow night?” my om invites.
“Sounds great,” Thurston responds.
“Kyle,” my mom starts. “Why don’t you and your friend go up to your room?”
“Sure, mom,” I reply through gritted teeth. I squeeze Thurston’s hand so hard he yelps, and growl, “Come on, Thurston.”
When we get up to my room, I shut the door. Thurston’s rubbing his hand and asks,
“What’s wrong?”
“Did you hear that?! She called me Kyle!” I hiss.
“I thought that’s what you wanted?” Thurston asks.
“Oh, my sweet Thurston. She has you fooled! She did that just to look good in front of you! Before I came to your house, she refused to call me that. Or her son, or…. Or let me change in the boys’ room!” I shout.
“Wait, what?” Thurston questions.
“She called me Kyle just to look nice for you!” I repeat. “Ugh! I hate her.”
Thurston suggests, “I don’t think you should talk about your mom like that.”
“So what? Now you’re on her fucking side?!” I demand.
Thurston flinches and glares up at me, his eyes watering. “There’s no need to yell. I never said she was right, you know.”
Great, I’m a bitch. I hug Thurston, apologizing, “I’m so sorry, babe. She’s just… she’s got me all worked up. You’re right, you’re right.” I hold his head in my hands and kiss him on the forehead. I stroke his cheek with my thumb, asking, “Okay?”
“It’s alright,” Thurston sighs. “What about your dad? Is he okay with your identification?”
I shrug. “My dad ditched my mom when she was pregnant. I know, real nice guy. He’s a dirt bag, and I could care less about his opinion. I thought you knew that; you called my mom a ‘Miss’.”
Thurston shakes his head. “It’s better to accidently call a woman ‘Ms.’ When the mistake is that she does have a husband rather than to accidently call her ‘Mrs.’ When her husband is dead, gone, or nonexistent.”
“That’s very smart of you, Thurston,” I compliment.
Thurston beams. “Thanks!”
He glances over at my M&M clock, and murmurs, “Shit, I gotta go.” He grins at me and kisses me, then wishes, “Bye, Kyle,” as he leaves.
I wave goodbye, and go straight to bed after he leaves.
At lunch the next day, Naoki, Bo, and Thurston all sit with us. Bo and Lee act like they hate each other the entire time even though they chose to sit next to each other .
“So, your mom doesn’t accept you?” Naoki asks.
I shake my head. “She lets me dress how I want, and that’s about it. I’m going to go to the office and ask about the changing rooms, anyways. Thurston, I’ll do it after school. Do you want to come with me?”
Thurston shrugs. “Eh. Why the Hell not?” He turns to Bo, and blurts (on purpose), “So, Bo, you know how you were telling me how much you liked Lee the other day?”
Bo turns scarlet, and Lee looks at him all starry-eyed. “Shut up, jackass!”
Thurston props his head up on one fist, and makes his eyes real big, mocking, “When are you going to do something about it?”
Bo springs onto Thurston, pulling him into a headlock. He grinds his knuckles into his skull, when a teacher barks,
“Boys! Quit it!”
Bo shoves Thurston away before walking back and sitting in his seat. “I’m your puny ass later.”
Thurston sticks his tongue out at him, smirking.
Bo grins and flips him off before turning to Lee, turning bashful on a dime. “Lee, do… do you want to date me?”
Lee squeals, “YES!” and wraps him in a hug as if she were just proposed to.
Bo looks surprised and rubs her back, giving the thumbs-up sign to Thurston.
After school, I hurry up to the second floor, going to the principal’s office. I ask him,
“Can I speak with you?”
He nods, but gestures at Thurston and questions, “Why is Mr. Rapp accompanying you?”
I glance at Thurston, who chirps, “Moral support !”
We go into the principal’s office, and we sit in the executive-looking leather chairs.
“What can I do for you, Ms. Hyde?” he asks, folding his hands on his large office desk.
“It’s Mr. Hyde,” I correct. “I identify as a boy, so I want to be able to change in the boys’ locker room and use the boys’ restroom.”
“Well, that’s fine, but there’s one condition,” he informs. He slides back in his chair to his filing cabinet, sorting through it. He finally pulls out a sheet of paper, and hands it to me, explaining, “A parent or legal guardian must sign this, confirming that you do, in fact, identify as that gender.”
I grimace, but then pull a pleasant smile, replying, “No problem. Thank you, I’ll have it back by tomorrow.”
“Sounds great,” he tells, not even looking at me but instead writing something down .
As we leave, Thurston nudges me and asks, “Your mom has to sign it. How are you going to swing that?”
I grin, checking back to make sure we’re out of the office’s ear shot, and respond, “I’ll forge it; of course.”
Thurston smiles and smacks me on the butt. “God, I love a bad boy.”
I redden, and sock him in the arm, mock scolding, “Thurston Alexander Rapp! Not at school!”
We walk over to my house; where Thurston will hang out until the dinner. “So… Halloween is next week. Are you trick or treating or….”
I guffaw, “No Thurston, I’m cool.”
He head butts me in the shoulder, replying, “Well, I’m going. And I’m sure Mya will give me a lot of shit over the whole thing .”
“Can you blame her, geek?” I tease.
Thurston pouts at me. He brings his face close to mine, and I laugh as I push his head away.
“Kyle, come on! Go with me; it’ll be fun! We can Cosplay!”
I smirk at him and shake my head, muttering, “Boy, you are something else.”
“Well, think about it! We could be Dean and Castiel… or-or Frank Iero and Gerard Way,” he suggests. He leaps in front of me and raises a finger into the air, proclaiming, “OOH! WE COULD BE THE 11TH DOCTOR AND THE 10TH DOCTOR !”
I put a hand to his forehead, joking, “Are you feeling well?”
He swats my hand away, insisting, “Come on! I dare you to tell me that last one isn’t a good idea.”
“It is a good idea,” I admit.
“Right? It’d be great!” he twirls around like a ballerina, singing in an opera voice, “I love Halloween! I’m going Trick or Treating!” He jumps in front of me and screams, “NO MATTER WHAT KYLE SAYS!”
I crack up so hard I fear I’ll pee my pants. “Oh my God, stop it!”
“Only if you agree to go with me,” Thurston responds. He grins once he sees that I’m holding my crotch, and asks, “Are you going to piss yourself?”
I shake my head and remove my hand. “Fine, I’ll go with you, you weirdo.”
“Yay!” Thurston cheers. “I have outfits for both! You can be ten, since you can probably spike your hair better than I can; yours is shorter.”
“Of course you have outfits for both,” I mumble.
Thurston lights a cigarette, inhales deeply, and exhales with relief. I cough and bat the smoke away, asking,
“Wasn’t Bo getting you to quit?”
“I never said he succeeded,” Thurston answers. He takes another puff and tilts his head up towards the sky, blowing it directly above himself.
We hang out in my room, talking about ourselves.
“Did I tell you I have anxiety?” I confide.
Thurston shakes his head. “I… I think so.”
“Well, I do,” I inform. I get up, grabbing my prescription medication off of my nightstand and shaking the bottle like a maraca, causing all of the pills inside to clatter together. “I have to see a therapist every other week. Her name is Jennifer and, and she tells me works with me on ways to deal with my anxiety.”
“You have to take those pills every day? That sucks,” Thurston groans. He furrows his brow, and then declares, “Oh yeah. I have PTSD that leads to chronic nightmares and sleepwalking. I visit a therapist once a month.”
“What do you have PTSD from?” I question.
Thurston’s face drops, and responds quietly, “From the car wreck.”
I gasp, and apologize, “Oh honey, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay; it was way worse when I was a little kid,” he replies. “Kids actually- up until I was in second grade, they’d- they’d sneak up on me and imitate screeching brakes in my ear, just so they could see me piss myself.” He starts to cry, and says bitterly, “Kids are great, huh?”
I hug him and agree, “Kids are assholes.”
“And kids…. I just hate them! I know they still talk shit about me,” Thurston tells. “Mya and her friends…. They talk about what a freak I am right in front of me. They call me a fag fairy and I just… ugh….I… I hate them! I hate people!”
I rub his back, shushing him. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I do, too. My teacher once made me give a presentation in fourth grade, and I had a panic attack. All of the kids would freak me out; crowding me and shit… I hate crowds, just to watch me flip. I got called ‘spaz’ for most of my school career… ”
“When I was in sixth grade and I came out…” Thurston begins. He sniffles, and continues, “A bunch of boys cornered me in the bathroom. And… they kicked me and… they called me a faggot, and a dog and they made me bark, or else they’d whip me in the face with their belts and….” He cries harder and tells, “And they just kept kicking me and calling me a freak while I cowered under the sink… I told a teacher about it, but they told them that I shouldn’t have egged them on! The fight started with a boy calling me a fag, and I yelled at him to leave me alone….” Thurston wipes his eyes and adds, “The teacher said it was all my fault since I didn’t use a nice tone, and the boys got no punishment.”
“Thurston….” I say. “I- I’m so sorry.”
“I’m sorry I’m laying so much shit on you,” he apologizes. “I just…. I’ve never told this to anyone, not even Bo. I really need to get all of this shit I have off of my chest.” He takes a deep breath and shares another horrible story. “After I tried to kill myself… I… I stayed in a hospital for three days. When I got back that Monday, my locker was defaced. It was smashed and had “Faggot” and “Queer” written on it, with lines scratched through as if the janitor had already tried to take it off. Not only that, but I opened my locker and… I…. I got a note.”
“What’d the note say?” I whisper.
Thurston takes a deep breath. “It said…. “Try again, Hell bait.” He breaks down and sobs loudly, his entire small body trembling.
I squeeze him even tighter, and kiss him on the forehead. I find the wrist with the scar, and repeatedly kiss the mark, murmuring, “You’re amazing. You’re beautiful. You’re not a freak. I love you.”
I look at his scar, and kiss it once more before tracing it with my thumb. I look up into Thurston’s cornflower blues and plead, “Please, promise me you’ll never do this again.”
“That’s the thing,” Thurston weeps. “If- If they start bullying me again…” He doubles over, crying, “I can’t assure you I can keep that promise.”
“Oh, Thurston Rapp,” I sigh. I hold onto him and screw my eyes shut, one of my own tears sliding out. “I can’t believe you almost… died. I don’t know what I’d do without you, honestly.”
“I’m sorry!”
“It’s not your fault, sweetheart. I just… I’m so scared for you, you know? I mean… you had the guts to do that once right? So that means you’d be willing to do it again.”
“Kyle… I’m….” Thurston looks up at me. “I’m starting to get bullied badly again. And I’m starting to get bad again.”
I squeeze him, worrying, “But you have a therapist, right? And- and you have me, and… and you won’t ever do that again.”
“Kyle I’m sorry, but… you know that I can’t promise you that,” he reminds.
I stare into his eyes, that beautiful, deep blue that looks so innocent but, at the same time, so haunting. “I know. That’s the scariest part.”
He wipes his eyes again as we’re called down for dinner.
“Coming!” I shout down the stairs. I turn to Thurston and ask, “Will you be okay?”
He nods, and follows me down the steps.
We sit down at the table. My mom notices Thurston’s swollen, red eyes and asks, “Thurston, are you okay, sweetie?”
He nods and wipes his nose, lying, “It’s just allergies, that’s all.”
“Oh,” she replies. She sits down at the table, scooping food onto our plates. “Thurston, you’re so skinny. Are you eating right? ”
“Yeah, I’m just thin,” he responds.
“Mom, he’s not anorexic,” I mutter.
“Just making sure,” my mom defends. “So Thurston, tell me about your family.”
“Um, I have foster parents named Lydia and Tom,” Thurston starts. “And a younger brother who’s eight named Jeremy, and a seventeen year old sister named Mya.”
“Biological siblings or…”
“Adopted,” Thurston answers. “I’m the only adopted one in the house.”
My mom nods, and asks, “Do you do any sports?”
“I’ll be doing swim team when that rolls around this spring ,” Thurston responds.
“What do you swim?” my mom questions.
“Freestyle, backstroke, I.M. and butterfly,” Thurston answers.
“So you’re quite the little swimmer.”
Thurston shrugs. “I guess you could say that.”
“Mom, I have to tell you something,” I tell.
“What is it, Kyle?” my mother asks.
Thurston shakes his head at me, but I nod at him, mouthing, ‘She has to know’. I turn to my mom and tell, “Thurston’s my boyfriend.”
My mom is silent. She slams her fork down, walks over… and hugs me! Hugs me! “Kyle, I’m so happy for you!”
She walks around the table, even hugging Thurston. She breaks apart the hug and warns, “If you dare break my little girl’s heart, you’re going to pay the consequences .”
Thurston gulps then nods, and my mother hugs him again before returning back to her seat. She bolts to her feet and through the room, squealing, “Ooh! I have to tell grandma!”
Once she’s gone, Thurston tells, “Well, that went a lot better than what I expected.”
I snort. “What’d you expect? Her to kick you out of the house and lock me up in a tall tower, denying me haircuts? ”
“Kind of!” Thurston jokes. He grins at me. “No but really, I thought that she’d ask me to leave and then flip out on you.”
“Would you have left me?” I question.
Thurston shakes his head and swears, “Never.”