I had looked it up. I had looked it up and I hated the results but loved it at the same time.

After that class where I had almost taken a full on nap, I was allowed into the computer lab for keyboarding but, unfortunately for Pinny, the teacher fell asleep in the middle of class.

I had looked up “What if your guy friend has red lines of his chest”. It was simple and many things came up about him being ‘transgender’.

I knew what it meant and even watched a few videos about how to confront him about it. Or her? I was confused on everything but what was mind boggling was the fact that he was a Christian and yet had this gender crisis going on. Weren’t Christians supposed to be straight, well-standing people?

But, here I am, looking at how the sexuality of the person was affected by which belief they had. Like, for instance, if a person is Christian, they are more than likely to follow in the straight line if a person isn’t then they will have more sexual preference than a Christian.

I was straight, no doubt about it. Sure, once in a while I’ll find a guy attractive, more precisely Pinny, but that happens with every guy. Right? Right.

Then why was I looking at how to tell whether your gay or not? Why was this so confusing? He wasn’t a real guy, he just had his boobs taken off, other than that he should be fine, right?

Well, I guess not, transgender guys want and almost need to be called their ‘he and him pronouns’ in order to not stem back into a whirl of depression and remembrance of what they used to be.

“Liam Staunt to the office, please. Lima Staunt to the office.” The intercom called, I froze, remembering everything I could that would get me in trouble. I closed my tabs, seeing the teacher waving his hand for me to leave. I heard the ‘oohs’ from the other students, even they thought I was in trouble.

I lifted my head as I walked into the office, seeing the nurse, principal, counselor, and, surprisingly, Pinny sitting there.

He wasn’t looking at me like the rest, instead looking at his hand, fidgeting slightly.

“Sit Liam.” The principal said, her tone careful and observant.

It scared the living shit out of me.

I sat next to Pinny, finally seeing the tears streaming down his face. What had I done?

“Pinny says you saw his scars, that true?” She said, her eyes almost glued to my face.

“I-yes.”

“Do you understand what they are?” She asked, her eyes finally fixated on something other than me, Pinny.

“I think so.” He let out a choked sob.

I flinched as did everyone in the room did, except the principle. That bitch.

He looked up at me, it broke my heart.

His lip was quivering and hands were shaking in his lap. His eyes were red, puffy, and filled with dread that was almost unbearable. I felt like holding him. I fought against it.

“Please.” His voice was weak and sounded dry with endless sorrow. “Please don’t tell anyone.” 

I felt a pang in my gut, he was scared. So, so, scared. It made me feel guilty.

The teachers preached on the walls, watching us with great concentration as we stared at each other. My hands itched at the began playing with the hem of my shirt. I was so nervous.

“Liam,” She began, startling me to the point of jumping in my seat, dragging my eyes to her. They were soft and silent. “Pinny is scared you’ll use this as blackmail or some sort of… trick to get him back for the fight on the bus.” Pinny shifted beside me.

“I,” I swallowed. “I would never do that.” She raised her eyebrows at me.

“What about Dom?” My blood ran cold, looking up at her once again, not realizing that I had looked down. Dom.

“That- was different.”

“How?” I shivered. I had known this would happen. He would find out one way or another.

“Because… he deserved it.” He didn’t

“Why?” Pinny was looking at me with glassy yet curious eyes.

“He came into my home an-”

“Violated your mother, I understand.” She released the subject.

“Pinny,” Her voice was soft, almost silk. “Would you like a moment with Liam?”

He nodded.

Everyone left, all that was left was the unsatisfying sound of the door clicking shut.