“Hey! What’s up bro?” you heard your closest friend, Alfred F. Jones, holler from across the school cafeteria.
You waved your arm, smiling a boy-ish smile. “Nothin’ much. What’s up with you, bro?” you replied.
“I saw this really cute new girl walking through one of the subway corridors. Cute face.” he called excitedly on the top of his lungs.
You stood there for a second, trying to figure out why he was telling you this. You’d forgotten. You were a girl-in-hiding, a refugee in a way, and you were in a all-boys school. You often wondered why your father pleaded with you to go to this school, despite your gender. Well, your father had always wanted all boys, but he only got three girls, you and your two little sisters. The two were too young to go to school, so you were all alone in this experience. A test subject, even. You wore the uniform baggy to conceal your feminine body-type, you cut your hair drastically short, and you tried your best to deepen your voice as you talked. It soon became a trained action, and you didn’t need any prompting to do all this.
“Stop being such a wanker!” a familiar British accent growled at Alfred.
You turned to see Arthur Kirkland, one of your other friends, stomping up to the two of you.
“Are you insane? My deaf grandmother all the way in London could probably hear you!” Arthur snapped. “That’s how loud you are!”
“…..” was the only thing that came out of you. Silence.
“We can all be friends, da?” said the Russian accented voice from nowhere. “How about we stop fighting?”
You whipped around, suddenly aware of Ivan Braginski looming behind you. “Oh-oh-oh, hello there, Ivan.” You stammered, unsure of how he had crept up on you.
You considered Ivan a friend as well. You thought it was far easier to make friends while being a boy. Why, you didn’t know. You always thought boys didn’t judge as much as
other girls. Maybe because most girls tended to care about how they looked and
how their friends looked. Girls could be cruel, extremely cruel. You’d learned that
the hard way.
“Oh, I guess we should stop fighting before we start a World
War III in this cafeteria…” Arthur said smartly.
“Yeah! But if that happened I’d be the hero! I’d knock all of (FAKEBOYNAME)’s and the rest of my friends enemies on their evil butts!” Alfred said grinning.
You blushed. It was an involuntary reaction and you couldn’t control it even if you had tried. Alfred took a close look at your face, a bit too close for comfort. His nose was practically touching yours. You face turned redder.
“(FAKEBOYNAME)? Are you blushing?” Alfred asked.
“Why would he be blushing?!” Arthur said.
“N-n-no. I’m getting hot flashes.” You said, wondering if boys got hot flashes. “I’ll be in the restroom, I need to was my face….”
With that, you sped away from Arthur, Ivan, and Alfred, running out the cafeteria. You leaned forward as you ran, and you quickly veered into the boy’s bathroom. You sloppily splashed some water on your face, causing the water to get down your shirt. It practically soaked your undershirt and bra. You rushed into one of the stalls and struggled to remove the baggy boy’s uniform from your body. You used paper towels to crudely dry yourself.
When you were done, you quickly left the restroom.
The bell that signaled the end of school rang and you remembered an important task you had to do. Alfred, Arthur, and Ivan all went to a little school club following the final bell. You thought it was a boy thing because two other guys, Yao Wang and Francis Bonnefoy, also went to it. Right, Francis had wanted to copy your Health class notes because he was too busy swooning and nosebleeding over the pictures of females.
You slammed open the door to their assigned school-club room. “I’m here Francis, you can copy my notes now!” you called, a little bit too feminine sounding.
Your eyes widened. Oops, you’d slipped up, but they probably wouldn’t notice, it was only a little screw-up. Little did you know, you had tucked your shirt in, an involuntary action, and this showed off your slim figure. And all the boys eyes were right on you.