The 50/50 Fates Chapter 7
“Life is better lived as who you are, then who you are not” Stacy, 2016. I made my own quote! I think it sounds very intelligent! Like I'm some old rich girl in a tower writing poetry.
I've been thinking about wearing makeup and a dress to the party, but Sandra doesn't seem to think that's a good idea.
I met her at my locker and told her my idea and she told me:
"I'm not sure that's a good idea." Sandra states "Transgender people have been hurt a lot for being themselves."
It's makes me think. “Why do people act that way?”
I need to focus. I'm in class.
Is it weird that I only know one person in my own school? It seems like everyone else is just a blur. Background noise just there. Anyway, it’s lunch and I'm sitting in the janitor’s closet, with Sandra.
“I won’t be able to go to the party.”
“My parents want me to go on a trip with them.” Sandra replied “For some family ‘bonding’”
I’m starting to think maybe I shouldn't wear a dress to the party. But I really want too.
"I think you shouldn't do it." Sandra says
"I think you shouldn't wear the dress." Sandra repeats "You'll endanger yourself."
The package is coming today. I'm feeling a little better and I think I'm going to the Melody Party today. Maybe I'll meet one of those other trans kids at the party. But I doubt it.
I didn't feel like going to school today, but Mom made me go anyway. I groan and slam my locker shut and go to the cafeteria.
I walk over to Macy and... Ella is not at the table.
Macy is a cliché, she's basically a mean girl just without the ice-cold meanness. She's on the cheerleading squad and is head of the student committee. The real mean girl is Linda. Now she is ice cold. Macy is like Linda's nicer twin sister even though they're not twins... Or sisters… Linda is the kind of mean girl who finds someone who is not normal—like me— and makes their life horrible. Tries to take the love of their life from them. Horrible stuff. Sometimes I wonder who could be the trans kids in this school. I know I'm one and that's it. I don't think Macy is trans. Or Ella. I don't know anyone else. It's like everyone else in this school is just background noise. Nothing at all that you notice but it's still there. I need to meet new people. Maybe if I tell someone they could help me with finding everyone.
No don't tell someone else. Macy won't get it.
I'm feeling weird… like sad and happy at the same time. Do you think that's possible? I don't know, it doesn't sound possible. To feel opposites at the same time.
I'm watching Sandra get in her parents’ car. As her Mom hits the gas Sandra rolls down the windows.
"Stacy! Believe in yourself. Find someone else to talk to. Someone you trust. I’ll be back the day before the Melody Speech!" Sandra does a peace sign —"Good luck!"— and drives away. It's about 4:30 so I head home. I must find the perfect outfit.
It's 5:30 and I finally found it. Not too boyish but a little more girly. A t-shirt that says, “I look good, don't I?” and some dirty jeans. I walk back. The walk there is about ten minutes long so I get there at 5:40. I can hear the bass of the music from the front of the school. I head around to the outdoor area to find that the grass is light yellow. Huh, it really complements the pink streamers that have been placed around on poles. The big bowl of punch is in the center and there's food near the edges of the stands. There’re so many people. Just like one big organism—word of the day— dancing together. I walk to the punch, grab a cup and get some punch. I take a sip. It burns the back of my throat. I guess Sandra was right about the punch having alcohol in it.
There's this girl being pulled off the punch table. She's screaming “no!!!” while two girls are pulling her away. She must've drunk a lot of the punch already.
I'm looking at this happening and one of the girls lock eyes with me.
I'm going to the party. The package says it was delayed. I'm feeling annoyed. Maybe I should drink a little extra punch this time.
I got to the party early to set up, but when I got there it was already set up and guess what. The punch was in these big bottles and I tried some. It had alcohol in it! So, it’s either packaged that way or someone is pouring alcohol into the bottles somehow. I suspect the first one. I waited until people started coming in. The music started blasting, and everyone was dancing.
It's around 5:44 and Ella's hugging the punch table. I walk over to Macy who's getting some food.
"Can you help me get Ella away from the punch?" I say
"Sure." Macy walks over with me.
Ella seems already really drunk.
"Ella." Macy grabs Ella's hand "You've had enough punch."
"No, I haven't." Ella slurs—nu uh I haveeeent—.
"Come on," Macy pulls on Ella " Penelope help me."
I grab Ella's other hand and start pulling.
"Ella come on." Macy pulls harder, slowly moving her away.
I look around. Is everyone watching this happen?
No nobody. Oh wait. Some tall guy is staring at us.
Weird. I let go of Ella's hand and get some punch.
Macy's basically dragging Ella away. I walk over to the guy. I feel like I’m... I don't know. It's like I feel like I should go talk to him.
"Hello." I say, sipping punch.
The girl is walking over.
"Hi," I say in a high-pitched voice.
The girl looks at me weird. I must be really drunk. I drank two cups already.
"So… how are you." My voice cracks. Movies are different than real life. In that movie I watched with Sandra the person says 'how are you' in a confident voice. I don't know how to do that.
"Good. Good." The girl gets more punch since we're right next to the table. I get some too.
I feel lighter… weird right? I've drank like six cups of the punch. I can't really think straight. I can't see straight either.
I've sat down with the girl and we're talking about the school.
"Isn't it weird that we get Melody Nagamine. Not some war hero?" She slurs in between sips.
"Yeah, where's the girl who fought for equality?" I spit
"We don't have one in this school." She mumbles "it's weird that most of our school is just normal except the two percent who are trans.."
"What do you mean?" I garble. What. Do you mean.
"Two percent of students in high school are transgender."
"And I'm the two percent."
"Really! Me too." I knock over my drink.
"Oh, that’s cool." She —"he?”— says “do you think we should tell anyone?"
"I have an idea." I mumble.
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