Letters For High School Misfits

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 3

August 12, 2018

To the next queer kid:

A week has passed and I can feel that it’s getting lonelier and lonelier. I really thought that I can still get along with my classmates, even though I am two to three years older than them. Some of them can still recognize me when I was their senior.

“Hey,” someone approached me after our second class. Everybody was going to the cafeteria to have their snack or early lunch. “I think I’ve seen you here before. You also used to study here, right?”

I hoped he won’t remember my last name, my former last name.

“Yeah,” I answered. “I stopped for two years. Name’s Gabriel Diaz.” I offered my hands.

“Right,” he mumbled. “Diaz, huh? I’m Eric, nice to meet you, bro.”

He shook my hands. I thought he’ll invite me to come with him to the cafeteria but someone shouted at him, his ever loud and super straight friends, telling him to come with them already.

I sighed a relief. I can’t surround myself with super-straight guys. I can act as a straight guy, but I can’t handle their toxic masculinity.

Hey, I do acknowledge my privilege as a straight-passing queer. Because of this, I am free from speculations. But I can’t be fully secured since they are watching us. I have to do my best to hide. I can’t be sent to The Camp. I need to accomplish what I came here for.

But it’s been hard for me to be honest. Suddenly, I don’t know how to fit in with these rich kids even though I used to be one. Is it really because I have changed so much after two years of survival?

I walk the hallways alone. Some girls would giggle, or I would hear some whispers from them as I walk. I missed getting this kind of attention, or should I say, admiration. 

But with my classmates, they seem to not care. I feel like a freak most of the time, though. I haven’t really have the chance to explain myself to any of them. 

That’s the thing about being a senior in high school, everyone already has a circle of friends or some already accepted their fate that they’ll be alone for the rest of their high school life.

It seems like the spaces for new people are gone. And in my case, being missing in action for two years is enough for them to forget about me even though I used to be ‘famous’ because of my looks.

I can’t blame them though. I can be easily forgotten since there are also a lot of handsome and cute guys here. One of them is Bryan. He’s my classmate, and he’s like me. He’s always alone because from what I have heard, he’s a transferee. Also, people here give him a weird look. I think my classmates are too rude for not befriending him.

From what I can see, he’s kinda soft. He doesn’t look like a nerd, and he’s definitely not the athletic one. But I think he’s smart. He can answer any question our teachers throw at him, though rare are the moments that he would raise his hand. Maybe he’s afraid that our classmates would smart-shame him.

I don’t know, but I think I can feel for him. Or maybe because we’re both loners.

Next Friday, it’s gonna be our acquaintance party. I don’t see the point of having this since almost all of The Academy students already knew each other. They said that it’s for us seniors to know our the first years and some transferees from other years.

I don’t think they would really try to know us, they just come to the party to, well, party and be wasted.

I hope Bryan will come. Maybe I will talk to him.

Well, I am actually concerned for him because he’s soft. I am afraid that the authorities or even the students here in The Academy would mistaken it as feminine, that they would think Bryan is queer. I don’t want him to be sent to The Camp. 

As much as I want him to express his true self, whoever he is, it would be hard for me to see a fellow queer kid (if he’s really queer) be sent to The Camp.

Months before the school started I have a neighbor who was allegedly sent to The Camp. I can still remember that night.

I heard a wailing from across the street. When I look through my window, I saw the familiar gray uniform of the authorities surrounding my neighbor’s house. They were trying to calm him down. It was so obvious that the authorities are forcing themselves not to shout back to my neighbor. It almost felt like they were faking their ‘calmness’ because my other neighbors are watching them.

His name was Bill. I haven’t really talked to him that much except from a few hi and hellos every time I would see him watering his plants in his backyard.

He was soft but softer than Bryan. Enough to spark speculations from the authorities. I haven’t heard from him since that night. And I do wonder where and how he is right now? Is he still soft?

Personally, their softness doesn’t matter to me. What’s frustrating is that the authorities took it as a sign of queerness. 

I want to talk to Bryan just to warn him. I’m just a concerned fellow. 

The theme of our acquaintance party is Old Hollywood. I know most of the girls are now looking forward to dress up. Most of the guys are as well. Most of these rich kids are fashionistas and would even hire designers to sew clothes for them.

It makes me sick now, though. They would dare spend ten to hundred thousand bucks for a night. Before, I didn’t mind it but now that I have learned that earning money is not easy, and I have learned it the hard way, it makes me want to vomit on this luxurious and unnecessary event.

But still, I have to attend though. An old tuxedo bought at a thrift shop would be fine, I think. I just need it to be altered to fit my body. I already have the genetic gift. I just have to carry the clothes well and hopefully I would fit in in the crowd.

I have to attend because I need to see and study the actions of Deogracias Silvio. I need to know his character, though I have a few memories and exchanges with him when I was a child when my parents are still alive.

“Gab, I can’t believe you’d grow this tall at such a young age,” he told me when I was 12. I already stan 5’8” that time. He visited our house for a private meeting with my parents and their other business partners.

I would smile at him every time he would greet me. He seems to be a nice man back then. My parents would always say that Deo has always been fond of children. He loves them and he has a separate charity foundation for children’s welfare. 

He has a daughter, but I haven’t seen her. They said that Deo loves her so much and was treated like a princess that her yayas would not let her dare be touched by any insect. Deo was overprotective with her daughter. I wonder who was it.

I heard a long bell while I was staying at the library writing this. So, I get up and quickly went to The Academy’s Square. According to the handbook given to us, the long bell is a sign that we should go to the Square because something important will be announced. It would either be led by the school’s principal or the student regent.

Before I even got to the square there are already a lot of students waiting. Some of them are standing and some of them are sitting in the bermuda grass.

The stage is already equipped by sound system. We patiently wait for someone who would approach the microphone. At the back of my head, I wished it was Deo, our principal. I rarely see him in the campus because he always stays at his office and I really want to see him. I really want to see the man who killed my parents. In my mind, I am starting to rip every part of his being. That’s morbid, I’m sorry, but I have been waiting for this opportunity.

Calm down, I didn’t do it. It’s not the right time. Also, it was not Deo who showed up. It was a girl.

Judging by the crowd’s reaction, it seems like they already knew the girl. She looks familiar, though.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” she said after testing the mic.

I recognized that strong voice. She was at my class. I didn’t realize she was really pretty until now. The toughness in her voice contradicts her soft features. It was like as if a grown lady trapped in the body of a princess. She has such conviction to every word she said. And everyone of us are listening to her, even the bitchy, spoiled brats in the campus have no choice but to follow the girl’s instructions. She can really lead.

“And just like what we’ve sent in your mails and what we’ve posted in the bulletin board, our theme for the acquaintance party will be Old Hollywood. Everyone shall comply with the theme. You are all expected to arrive at 7 in the evening next Friday. Our venue would be at La Casa Del Galmor. Any questions should be entertained now.”

She waited for a second. But I think everyone was intimidated by her aura that no one dared to ask her in front of many people.

I saw Bryan in the crowd.I studied him. He was just looking straight to the girl at the stage and his gaze is already locked.

I can see the admiration in his eyes, even from afar. So he likes her. That’s a good thing for me. I just hope that the authorities would take note of that, that he’s not queer.

I can already sense that Bryan is now planning to ask her to dance at the party. Or even ask her to be his date. But I doubt that. He would need to compete a lot of guys to win her yes. I hope he succeeds, though.

“If no one’s gonna ask, that would be all for this announcement,” she said. “Again, it’s Agatha Silvio, your student regent. Thank you.”

Everyone was already getting back to their own businesses and classrooms but I stayed in my position while I stare at Agatha get down the stage.

Agatha Silvio.

Silvio.

I confirmed what I was thinking when I overheard a conversation about her being the daughter of the principal.

I was right. She is the only child of Deogracias Silvio.

I noticed Bryan in his same spot, still not moving. Weird. He looked at my position and our eyes met for a millisecond. 

But I was too occupied by the thought of Agatha Silvio to fully notice him. 

I felt like my plan to avenge my parents will now be changed.

Queerly yours,

Gab.