Look, I woke up on November 14th knowing that I was probably going to burst within the next few weeks. I just didn’t know I would as soon as I did. Although, I was already ticked off the minute mom called my “name” in the morning.
“Leah! Wake up!” Eugh. Leah. What a girly, cliche name. I clenched my jaw, trying to pretend she’d said ‘Onyx’ instead. The wind yelled at me to wake up from outside my window, and the fact that I’d left it open didn’t help. I shivered grumpily.
Not like I could say anything to them about my name preference. You’d think living in Telluride, Colorado, the place that had pride flags everywhere during June and was bursting with queer communities and support, would be the perfect place for a young nonbinary and bisexual teen. Nope! Not when you’re me! My parents are irritatingly strict due to beliefs. I don’t even have a phone, and I’m fourteen. I don’t get one until I move out and can “Waste my own money” on one.
Their homophobia made me more irritated with every word they said against it and every pride flag they ignored. My sister, Paige, started noticing after a few years, and pressed me into telling her. Honestly? Best decision ever. She supports me and I tell her everything. Slight problem; she’s moving out soon, and I’ll have no one.
Anyways, I sit up and look at my brown hair. It was long and perfect last year. I hated it, so I begged my parents and they let me cut off a “reasonable” amount. So now it’s thicker and about to my shoulders. Still not short enough, but it’s a start.
“Leah! Come on, it’s already seven-ten!!” Mom called.
I groaned into my pillow, taking in the stupid lavender scent of our detergent. I called back groggily, “Coming!”
After racing after the bus and panting as I speed-walked through the halls, I finally managed to get to school.
“You’re late, Miss Davenport. Again.” Mr. Billiard said bluntly as I stumbled over my converse and into my Social Studies class. My forehead was already beaded with sweat, and it took all my willpower to not glower at his ugly, wrinkled face. The guy should’ve retired four years ago.
I manage a “Sorry” through my teeth, already feeling agitated. The unpleasant smell of a vintage store and dry conditioner fills my lungs as I take my seat that he’d placed right next to him to “Keep an eye on me”.
“Why are you late this time, Miss Davenport?” He asked, and I looked up. Some kids snickered. Just let it go and mark me tardy, holy Hermes. I thought angrily to myself.
“My alarm didn’t go off,” I mumbled, which is half-true. I unplugged my clock a week ago because I was sick of it.
“Well, please don’t make this more of a habit than it already is.” He replied, giving me a glare that makes him look even older than he looks already. His nose scrunches and his wrinkles become more prominent as he scowls at me.
I nodded stiffly, trying not to roll my eyes at him, instead bouncing my leg subconsciously like I always do to calm myself down.
“Good. Now, today we’re continuing our study on the French Revolution.” He announced, turning his back on me.
I swallowed a groan. I truly don’t care about how France was freed from Britain or whatever. I dug my fingers into my black sweater. I’m not going to bore you with the lifespan of King George III, because I wouldn’t be able to if you paid me. The man’s life made no sense.
“Now,” Mr. Billiard said at the end of class as he checked the clock, which said 9:45. Five more minutes.
“About the tardy policy.” He looked directly at me when he said it. I felt cheeks warm up and flush with color as some kids snicker.
“As you all know, if you are marked as tardy with no excuse, then it goes on your report card for the semester. And if you are marked tardy more than five times a year, then you get an office referral.” My cheeks heated up more, but this time out of irritation.
“Now, I’m not naming names or singling anyone out,” A scoff came out of my mouth louder than I thought it would as he spoke.
He paused and looked at me. Crap. The room felt hot all of a sudden, and I wished I didn’t wear such a thick black sweater, even though it’s November.
“Something to add, Miss Daven-”
“Would you stop calling me that?” I blurted, louder than I intended to. Not like I intended to at all. Double crap.
He glared at my sudden outburst. I swallowed, pressing my lips together frustratedly. I should’ve expected this.
“See me after class.” He sneered. Dang it.
I left the classroom after my lecture fuming. I swore I could feel smoke bursting from my ears, but it’s just my painful earrings that I should’ve taken out a week ago.
I grabbed my lunchbag and stomped to lunch, eyeing my usual table. I walk over to it, slamming my lunch on it so hard it startles the crap out of Micaylah. Her box braids made an irregular movement as she jumped, her kandi bracelets jangling.
“Jeez, Onyx, what did Mr. Billiard do this time?” My other friend, Torin, asked, his tone exasperated as he blew his black hair out of his eyes.
They’re used to me coming to lunch infuriated, and I think he’s getting tired of it. I sat in between them grumpily as Micaylah ate one of her Cheez-It’s.
“I got detention after school tomorrow. He said that if I get one more tardy I’ll get a referral and they’ll call my parents.” I muttered furiously, opening my lunchbox with way too much force.
Micaylah sighed, her expression now also exasperated with my ranting. She tugged at one of the beads in her braids, a habit she’d picked up ever since she’d gotten them.
“Try calming down, Onyx, you’re gonna break that thing.” She said sarcastically, rolling the purple bead around in her dark fingers.
I groaned and rolled my eyes, taking out my sandwich with hazelnut spread. A girl behind me whispered something to someone who was definitely her boyfriend, who laughed. My face heated up and Torin put a hand on my arm.
I got a little less tense, but still bit my sandwich grumpily, getting the sweet nutella stuck in my braces. I groaned, grabbing my braces brush and trying to get it out. It isn’t a pretty sight, sticking a tiny brush in your teeth, and so obviously some girls wearing short Lululemon shorts and holding brightly colored, matching lunch bags snickered.
I ignored them, my cheeks heating up again in embarrassment. Last year, if I’d dressed like that, I’d’ve been their friend. Which, obviously, is not what I want. With their fake press-on nails and messy bun that they put too much effort in. “Yeah, this is all I was able to put together… It looks so bad..” SHUT UP, you attention seeker. I can smell your coconut perfume from here.
That made me go into a spiral of ranting angrily to them both, about everything that sucks in my life. And before you tell me I need a therapist, I already have one who doesn’t do anything. So I talk to them or Paige instead.
Micaylah added on irritated comments and fiddled with her kandi the whole time, and Torin listened patiently, buttoning and unbuttoning his grey flannel.
The school day seemed to inch by. After lunch I had English, then art, math, science, and then finally French.
As the bell rang, the class said their scattered “Au revoir”s and “Salut”s to the teacher before filing out excitedly. I hurried out the back door, saying a brief goodbye to Torin. I saw Micaylah talking to her girlfriend with a gigantic grin, so I chose to leave them be.
I looked both ways and then grabbed my skateboard, riding down the narrow road and letting my gloves hit the hard concrete.
Once I made it home, I hid my skateboard outside my window in the bushes and opened the door. Ugh, I have to study for French, and start writing that essay about King George III, and my math isn’t done- Woah.
I opened the door to see a colorful banner up in the doorway with balloons. There were a few other people there, like Paige’s friend’s and mom’s book club friends.
Then I noticed the smell of vanilla coming from where mom was in the kitchen. I peeked around her and saw a piping bag in one of her hands, and a butter knife in the other.
“Leah, honey, you’re home!” Mom said happily, and I forced a smile, something I’d gotten much better at recently.
“Um, why are you making a cake?” I asked, coming over. Then I saw her finishing the cursive words on the top, beaming. “Goodbye, Paige!” Wait, what? I looked up at her.
“‘Goodbye’?” I echo dryly, realization creeping in but being held back by my denial. Mom smiled at me.
“Surprise!! We’re having a party tonight for Paige, and she’s leaving for NYU tomorrow!!” She said brightly. What. The. Hermes.
I thought Paige wasn’t leaving until February. Why didn’t anyone tell me? She’s only the most important person to me ever. No, this couldn’t be real. I tried to ignore the way my heart sank and how I felt like hiding in my room from everyone. My forehead beaded with sweat.
“What?” I lamented, trying to keep my voice from shaking as my heart pounded. I put my hand on the quartz counter next to me, the coldness somewhat calming my screaming head.
“Isn’t it great, sweetheart?” Dad grinned with his thick Southern accent, walking in and kissing mom’s forehead. My ears started ringing.
“But I thought-”
“Plans change! She found a cheaper plane ticket, and she leaves tomorrow!! Great, ain’t it?” Dad interjected cheerfully, a rare emotion for someone like my father. I forced a small “Yay!” and stumbled into Paige’s room.
Paige was surrounded by piles of her clothes, a large suitcase open on her bed. All her perfect-girl achievements and the photos of her with her boyfriend, Travis, had been taken down and wrapped in bubble wrap.
My heart sank deeper into my chest. I plucked at the white design on my sweater, an anxious habit of mine. By the time I grow out of this, it’ll have no design at all.
She looked up at me in the middle of folding a shirt. Her brown curls bounced as she looked up with blue eyes and freckles on her face. Her hair was held back in a messy bun, but one that’s actually rushed, unlike those idiots at school. She had a red long-sleeved shirt with white lace and cute bell-bottomed jeans. She smiled at me, putting it down and coming over to me with a hug.
“Hey, Onyx!” She smiled as if I didn’t feel like collapsing on the spot right now. I didn’t bother pretending to smile. My face had started to hurt from that. She noticed and her familiar smile fades.
“You okay?” She asked cautiously. I shake my head vigorously. I said a small “No” before swallowing hard as if I’d taken too big a bite. I sat on her bed, feeling as dizzy as I had the day I’d come out to her. The room felt really hot. I tugged at my sweater anxiously. She sat by me.
“Mom and dad must’ve told you-”
“But you didn’t.” I interjected, balling my hands into fists and breathing hard. She sighs. She’s probably used to this by now. My stupid anger issues.
“I know. But mom told me to make it a surprise. It’s not the end of the world. I’ll be back in the summer.” She said gently, and I swallowed again.
“How am I supposed to- I need you here, Paige…” I said in a small voice, unable to say much as my eyes started stinging.
“I know you do,” She replied, fidgeting with her white-pearl earring. “But I have to go. College is good for me, it’s good for anyone. I’m not going for the sake of leaving you. I just… NYU is the place for me. I’ve never liked it here. I need to study. How else am I going to be a teacher?”
I looked away as she said it. If she was trying to guilt trip me, she was doing good at it. But still. I have Torin and Micaylah, but that’s different. They may know my preferences, but I tell Paige everything. And I always felt so good afterwards. And I have nobody else to talk to. Really talk to.
“I know, and I want you to be able to do all that, I know you want to… But I just… I have nobody else to talk to about everything going on in my life.” I said shakily.
“We can call,” She suggested with a small smile.
“It’s not the same, Paige, and you know it.” I reply, shaking my head and putting it in my hands. She sighed again, pulling at a loose thread on her shirt.
Suddenly, the door burst open and mom exclaimed, “Cake time!!!” in the stupidest voice. I forced a smile, despite the cogs turning in my head.
“Great!” I beamed forcefully, sitting at the dining room table. The whole cake thing was insignificant to me. Usually, red velvet was my favorite, but not this time. The red seemed to mock the red of Paige’s shirt I’d never get to see all the time anymore.
I took a few bites and said I’d finish it later before going into my room. I swallowed, my eyes starting to water again. I stared out the window into the narrow streets, surrounded by giant mountains. Voices spoke in persuasive voices in my head.
“Paige is leaving, what’s the point?”
“How are you even going to make it in this prison of a house now?”
“I can make you happier. You don’t belong here. But you can.”
A thought popped into my head. A somewhat twisted thought. Before I knew what I was doing, I dumped my homework out of my backpack and started shoving my things into it.
Flashlight, snacks, clothes, water, shoes, money, band-aids, lighter… I’d say phone if I had one. I put on my fingerless gloves and for one hesitant moment, as I’m on the edge of my window, I stared back at the room I’ve lived in forever.
My old nightlight, my box of old girly clothes, my unplugged clock, my photos. My school, my whole life, where was I even meant to go? What’d Torin and Micaylah think if they saw? What’d Paige think? Do I really want to do this?
I jumped back into my room and let it sink in; what I’m doing. I stared at photos of me and my friends laughing. My old dance class I used to be forced to do. My grandparents smiling as they held little me up. I reached for the photos, about to let my backpack fall, and then-
“Oh, those rainbow flags downtown? Ugh. Annoys the crap outta me. They’re poisoning our kids’ minds. Forcin’ all this garbage on them.” Dad.
I snatched the photos and shoved them into my bag, grabbing my skateboard and putting up my hood. I hopped out the window without a second glance back into my- the room.
I winced as I hit the cold concrete and felt blood dripping from a cut on my knee. Crap. I dump a tiny bit of water on it and put on a band-aid.
I took a deep breath and saw my mom at the big window of our house talking with a friend. I hid around the corner. She’ll see me. I thought.
I turned around and saw a small path I’ve used once before to get home before my very early curfew of five. I hoisted my bag over my shoulder and went down the path, the trees scratching my arms and face.
I had a few cuts and bruises from falling, but other than that I was fine. I got out of the trees and skateboarded down the narrow road. It’d been ten minutes. They’d notice I’m gone soon.
My phone buzzed. Speak of the devil.
I paused on my skateboard and saw a message from mom. “Hey, you okay? Where are you? Want some cake?”
I stuffed it back into my pocket without answering and knelt down on my board, my glove hitting the rocks. I’d gotten pretty far. If I could find the Galloping Goose, the bus that runs through Telluride, I might be able to find somewhere.
Maybe Torin or Micaylah’s. But then again, they wouldn’t approve. I walked down the streets, eating a Goldfish as I did so. Suddenly-
“Onyx? Is that you?” I turned and saw Torin, a look of confusion and concern on his face. My cheeks heated up. Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods…
I looked up at him, swallowing. “Um, hi.” I said awkwardly. His timing is just great.
“What are you doing? Aren’t you at your sister’s party or whatever? Your mom told my mom.” He said, and for some reason my eyes started to water a little. Why am I doing this? I thought to myself. I sat on the sidewalk and he sat by me.
“It’s complicated.” I muttered, unsure of how to word it without lying to him. I can basically hear the cogs turning in his head. “Onyx, you’re not trying to run-” He started.
“I know, I’m a terrible person!” I blurted out, feeling the warm tears race down my face. He looked taken aback. For all he knows, I barely cry.
I rambled out everything going on in my head. How I felt horrible, how I wanted to run away… It felt good to get it out to someone who listened.
He stared at me when I finished. Then he stood up, extending a hand. My phone was blowing up in my pocket. It’d been almost an hour.
“Come on.” He said as I wiped my eyes.
I clenched my fists in and out as Torin walked with me. I heard my “Name” being called out. My mom’s scared voice. My sister’s tearful voice, calling out quieter “Onyx”s. Then dad caught sight of me.
“She’s here!” He called. I clenched my fists tighter.
“Leah! Young woman, where have you been!? We are horribly disappointed, we were so worried! Explain yourself!” He said angrily. Yeah, glad I’m okay, too. I thought to myself.
Mom raced over and put her hands on my cheeks, starting to ramble before I swatted them away. I don’t wanna hear her stupid “Sweet little girl” trash. That is not who I am.
“Leah, sweetie-” Mom began tearfully.
I interrupted, “Don’t call me that. That’s not who I am.” She looked taken aback. So did everyone else. Torin put his hand on my arm, and I calmed down a little.
I let out a shaky breath, steeling myself. “My name is Onyx.”
They all stared at me as if I had grown wings and started doing the Cha Cha Slide.
“What?” Mom said, confused as I clenched my fists and breathed harder, trying to calm down my nerves.
“I hate being called Leah. I hate being a girl. I’m neither. I’m Onyx!” I yelled, raising my voice to make myself look less nervous than I actually was. Their eyebrows shot up. Paige stares at me, her eyes glimmering.
“O-Onyx?” Mom repeats shakily. Dad’s emotion is unreadable. I nodded firmly, despite my trembling hands.
“I’m nonbinary. I’m not a girl. I’m not a boy. I’m Onyx. I’m bisexual, too. I like both guys and girls.” I repeated, clenching my jaw. I had no idea what was going to happen next.
“You don’t mean that,” Dad said stiffly. “You’re confused. With all the support of this- this LGBT stuff.”
A fire seemed to light in my eyes as I countered furiously, “No, dad, I’m not confused! I know who I am, and I’m not letting you both control my life anymore!” Torin tightened his grip on my arm.
“No,” he spat, raising his voice. “I don’t know where we went wrong.”
To my surprise, before I can yell at him, Paige, little miss perfect and sweet, snaps at him. “If you don’t accept your own child for who they are, then I’m dropping out of NYU!” she threatened, startling both of them.
I froze and stared at her. Her eyes were tearful but dangerously furious. I felt the tears come on again, and pushed them back. She wasn’t bluffing. She was always deadly serious about her threats.
“Sweetheart, no-” Mom began.
“No! If you don’t, I’ll drop out and make you two accept Onyx. They’ve felt so trapped and hurting, and you never even knew. It’s a pathetic excuse for parenting!” She shouted. Mom gasped.
It felt like the longest minute and a half of my life as my parents had a silent conversation with their eyes.
“Onyx,” Mom hesitated. I almost cried when I heard my real name come out of her mouth.
“Come in- Come in for some cake.” Mom faltered as she spoke, something that never happened, and I felt a tear roll down my cheek. She smiled a little bit.
I couldn’t believe she was trying to accept me. I’d spent so much time panicking they’d kick me out or something… I had been overthinking everything. Dad looked less welcoming to my new revelation, but at least he looked like he was trying. It’s not much… But it’s a start.