Gender Bender

Episode 3

Lachlan stares at his fingers, watching as the pen dances between them. This has been his new pastime during class, and he’s already getting good. Freshman year, he’d mastered the art of spitballs; sophomore year, he’d found a more refined passion in drawing naked figures; and by junior year, he could balance any writing utensil on his knuckles.

A pair of hands bang against his desk and he loses focus, the pen clattering to the ground. He glares up at his interrupter.

“Morning, Wolfe.” It’s Quince Baxter, his co-captain. “What’s got you all pensive this fine morning?”

Lock scoops his pen from the floor and raises an uninterested eyebrow. “Do I look pensive to you right now, Baxter?”

Quince shrugs. “Hey, I have a hunch for these things.” He slides into the desk next to Lock’s. “So. I heard you and the fellas got a new suitemate yesterday. What’s he like? Another one y’all are going to send home with his tail between his legs?”

Lock frowns. He’s not exactly sure what he thinks of Olly, but he knows he got a bad feeling about the kid the moment he walked into the suite yesterday afternoon. There was something about him – something mysterious, but not in a good way. Like a shell of a person. Empty.

The guy had gone to bed around ten at night, and Wes had called JC and Lock into his room to have a quick talk about their new suitemate.

“The kid’s a queer,” JC had said immediately. “One hundred-and-ten percent.”

“That’s just your fantasy.” Lock snorted, amused.

Wes rolled his eyes. “Listen. We’re just going to try not to mess up on this one, okay? He seems like an introvert – like someone who’s not going to try to force himself into our circle, so I don’t think you two need to try so hard to kick this one out.”

“What do you mean?” JC protested. “I just like having fun with people! I was never trying to ‘kick them out.’”

“I was.” Lock was honest. “They were getting too up in my business.” When Wes glared at him, he relented, “If the kid leaves me alone, I’ll leave him alone.”

If Lock had to have roommates, he would stick with JC and Wes and no one else all the way. The three of them had met freshman year when they’d all gotten detention on the same day: JC for talking too much, Lock for talking back, and Wes for accidentally forgetting to put his phone on silent. In detention, the three of them ended up sitting in the same row. Somehow, they played rock, paper, scissors for the entire hour, with the caveat that loser had to say “Please give me the bathroom pass” out loud in an Elmo voice of progressively increasing volume. All three of them received another detention, but they’d been inseparable ever since.

Honestly, Lock could probably live the rest of his life with no one else but them.

“Hello?” Quince waves a hand in front of his face, jolting him out of his thoughts. “See, I knew it. Pensive.”

 “Beat it, Baxter.” Lock swats his hand away. “If you want to know more about him, talk to him yourself. He’s not exactly hard to miss.”

As if on cue, the scrawny boy walks through the entrance of the classroom. He’s a good head shorter than pretty much everyone else in the class, with his hands attached to his backpack straps and eyes flitting nervously around his surroundings. He has very uneven, choppy black hair, as though he cut it himself. The bangs that fall over his forehead are especially shaggy. His jaw is round, his nose flat and button-shaped, and his brown eyes large and doe-like. Put the kid in a different uniform, and he could easily pass as a girl.

Olly locks eyes with Lachlan, and though Lock quickly lowers his gaze, he can see the boy shuffling towards him. Great.

“Hi,” Olly says, standing by the desk in front of him. “Is anyone sitting here?”

Quince answers in Lock’s place. “No assigned seats in this class,” he chirps.

“Um, cool.” Olly slides his backpack onto the back of his seat and plops down into the wooden chair. He sits facing sideways, his hands tapping at his knees. Lock keeps his eyes attached to his pen.

“So, you’re Lock’s new roommate?” he hears Quince say cheerily. “I’m Quince Baxter. Lock and I are the captains of the soccer team. You play?”

“Uh … not really.”

“Oh, you more into school stuff, then? How good are you at Calc?”

Lock has to actively stop himself from rolling his eyes. There Baxter goes, trying to charm his way into another free homework assignment.

“Calc?” Olly’s voice wavers. “If I’m honest, I’m not a math person.”

“That’s okay.” Quince is persistent. “Why don’t we check answers before class starts on Wednesday? We could help each other out.”

Olly sounds surprised. “Oh … are you a math person?

Knowing that Quince can barely buy lunch without using a calculator makes the question even funnier, and Lock can’t help but snort in amusement. He catches Quince and Olly both turning to him out of the corners of his eyes, so he quickly coughs to mask the sound.

“Uh – yeah! I’m kind of a math person,” Quince finally replies.

Another muffled snort from Lachlan.

The bell signaling the start of class rings, freeing Olly from the conversation and Quince from his humiliation. In comes JC, dashing through the door, screaming, “s**t, s**t, s**t, s**t, s**t!” He hurtles into the desk in front of Olly’s and bursts into laughter as Dr. Donovan enters the room, shutting the door behind him.

Donovan points at JC. “Almost got you this time, Chu. Better watch your back.”

“Sorry, Dr. D,” JC caws, not sounding sorry at all. “I promise I won’t be late again.”

“Same bullshit promise you made last week.” Donovan slams his clipboard onto his desk, pauses when his eyes land on Olly, and then picks his clipboard up again. “Ah, yes,” he says, eyes scrolling down the page. “Mr. Parker. Welcome to Introductory Physics.”

“Thank you,” Oliver squeaks, his voice cracking. A few giggles scatter around the room.

“I ordered an extra textbook when I heard of your arrival, but it won’t be here until the end of the week. For now, please share with a nearby student. The rest of you –” He points a pen around the class. “Open your textbooks to page forty-three. You’d better have done the reading.”

JC scoots towards Quince. “I forgot mine in my room, Baxter,” he hisses.

Olly turns his head chaotically, looking for a partner, until his eyes finally land on Lachlan. A chill zaps through Lock’s shoulders so quickly that he immediately shoves the book across his desk towards the boy.

“Take it,” he mumbles, resisting the urge to rub his hands against his arms. What a weird feeling.

Olly turns in his seat and gently pushes the book back towards Lock. “I can read upside-down,” he offers.

Lock doesn’t say anything, but he knows damn well he won’t be able to concentrate on the reading with this creepy kid sharing his book.

“The photoelectric effect!” Donovan screeches. “Which one of you lazy assholes can give me a quick summary of Friday’s reading? Mr. Chu, since you were so eager to get to my class, why don’t you tell us?”

While JC splutters some incoherent nonsense, Lock sees Olly’s face fall into more and more confusion. It’s not long before the kid’s entire expression morphs into that of a lost puppy.

Before he knows it, Lock blurts out, “What’s wrong?”

As he’s hating himself for asking that out loud, Olly, his worried eyes still glued to the book, murmurs, “I’ve never taken Physics before, so I think I’m kind of lost. What are photons, exactly?”

Lock urges himself to ignore the kid’s struggles, but something about Olly’s face is just undeniable. Maybe it’s the innocent gleam in his eyes or the constantly furrowed brows that betray the boy’s inner anxieties as he traverses this new environment. Maybe it’s the shy slump of his shoulders or the sheer tininess of his figure – all things that are rarely seen by seniors at an all-boys’ academy.

Whatever it is, Lock falls victim to it.

“Try to follow along,” he offers. “I can help you back in the suite.”