Chapter 63 - Rule 63 Applies

Wes’s bedroom (Not Lea’s, not yet) was better organized than mine. Instead of a corner clothes pile and musty, semi-useless dressers, Lea had several black, fancy dressers she was stuffing with extra shirts and a full, white hamper.

Along the nearest wall were three massive closet doors that looked like mirrors. The doors slid over and behind one another on different tracks. Peering into them, I noticed darkened rings around my eyes. I got them even if I felt tired or not. Although I definitely felt tired right then.

Lea came up from behind and slipped around to look in the same mirror. She noted, “All this week, I abhorred these mirrors. No matter where I went in my room, inescapably, there was this face. Even downcast, I still caught some part of my altered visage.”

She reached forward and touched a hand to the glass. “I can’t say it feels perfectly natural yet. I’m still astounded by my reflection and marvel at it, but the pain and animosity are gone.”

I looked at Lea’s reflection staring out.

Somewhere out there, in countless worlds upon worlds, even if they were only in the imagination, was a Lea named Lea by birth. By fate and chance, she had also come to this room and this moment, with another Kenzie. Kenzie of no consequence and her friend Lea. I could imagine the other side of the mirror was the tangible but impassible bridge between the two worlds. “A bridge of space without distance”, that’s what Cass had said, right?

As I turned, for a fleeting glimpse, I thought that my reflection had lingered before the mirror an instant too long. That she had watched me after I had stopped watching her. Flicking my eyes back revealed no oddity in my reflection. Only a wariness of my mind for this long and challenging week.

Lea kept looking in the mirror after I’d turned away to explore the rest of her room. Beyond the hamper and dresser, she had a nice, queen-sized bed with gray and blue covers like her recent flannel. A wall lamp and a desk lamp kept the shadows at bay. Her desk was filled with several large piles of notebooks, loose paper, and random CDs.

Beyond that, just a narrow bookshelf for anything leftover and a respectable amount of books. Covering a yawn, I crept over to the bed and found an edge to sit on. Lea joined me a minute later and flopped down. She reached a hand over and I clasped it in mine as I laid back on the bed as well.

Eventually, we scooted to the pillows and settled there. Lea drew her legs up and asked, “What are you pondering?”

I wasn’t pondering anything in particular. Just trying not to linger on the stuff that didn’t make sense. Wondering what we could do in place of our made-up project. However, I off-handedly remarked, “Just thinking about how I should get used to this.”

With a little cough-laugh, Lea inquired, “How so?”

Really, I should’ve offered some sweet notion of Lea’s cuddles becoming an ever-more common thing. The thought was there, but my brain went somewhere else.

“From now on, I’ll only be around girls for any length of time. One way or another.”

It was the stark, genuine notion in my head. Resting beside my dad as a little girl, lifted up on his shoulders, leaning against him. All for the past. The fleeting cuddles of Wes that warmly enveloped me when we were dating. Just merely sharing the same space as a boy. Never the same.

Lea sat up a little and nervously asked, “Am I…an afterthought?”

I blinked and sat up a little too, as though roused from a lingering stupor. “Afterthought? No. You’re Lea.”

Staring downward, Lea clutched her hands and mulled, “But…the way you put it. 'Get used to this'. Is it a burden? I mean…I know I wanted to be around you all day. And I was upset before Chilton and everything. And I came to your next class. And then lunch. Are you just…putting up with me?”

I immediately shook my head and assured her, “No. Not at all. And it's not a burden. It’s just a huge responsibility. I…tried to think of a word for it earlier. Like a daughter but different or something.”

Lea’s ease wavered. Her eyes didn’t meet mine.

No. I already fucked up our relationship once with that stupid writing assignment. I couldn’t do it again. I leaned closer to her and pressed, “You are beautiful. You are amazing. And…we each have our own reality checks about how our lives will be now and I’m still figuring that out. I’m sorry if that sounds distant, but I’m just scared and it’s on my mind…”

Her frown faded slightly and she leaned back towards me. “I’m scared too. Daunted and reeling and not sure what my parents really think. Not sure when Nats is going to come screaming through the front door to tell me everything that feels legitimate now is a lie. And…just your words…”

She sniffled a little to herself and elaborated, “It hurt. I know you didn’t mean them to hurt but they did. When I was changing my clothes, I thought about how Nats was the world to me and now I’ll never embrace her the same way ever again. I’ll never feel her the same way. I mean…I still love her. But we confided to one another ideas of where we’d go over the summer and if there would be more. It’s all gone now…same as you and I were gone. Who knows what will be gone next?...”

Whatever restraint Lea had over her tears vanished as she curled her lip up and let a hot rain fall over her cheeks. She sobbed and whimpered with her hands muffling her cries. I felt like crap. My words to trigger all this. My untempered thoughts at the source. Why do I shit all over everything?

With whatever comfort I could offer, I softly apologized. I went to get Lea some tissues as she tried to stem the tide. Eventually, she had to step outside to use the bathroom. I took that time to sit there and stew. I just chose the prize moments to genuinely speak my mind. Well, if I didn’t speak my mind then who would?

I rubbed my eyes under my glasses and tried not to focus on the eerie doppelganger tracing my every move across the way.

Though with puffy eyes, Lea returned with the glimmer of a smile as she announced, “We…can’t do anything about tomorrow. Or next week. Or a year from now. Or any epoch earlier. Just what happens now. You said what you felt because…I asked you. I just can’t stop…being melancholic about it all. I don’t want to be a footnote in your life. I don’t want to be some prosaic template for your interactions with other people.”

She nuzzled up to me on the side and shut her eyes. “I’m me. I’m no one else. Even if I change. Boy or girl. Wes or Lea. Please…”

I wasn’t sure what to say, lest I make things worse again. I reiterated carefully, “You’re not a footnote. It’ll be alright.”

Still, she wept. From there, she fluttered about a bit, finding respites of sudden happiness thinking about the boys from the pick-up game.

“Do you think any of them liked me? Probably too soon to tell. I could try getting closer on Monday. If they’re still there. But would it be fortuitous to actually take that chance and put myself...out there? Am I really fully neurologically...heterosexual...with respect to my physical sex?...”

During this time, I let her talk. Too many words would just put me in the path of her feelings. I simply asked, “What do you feel you are?”

She nearly smacked her head against the wall as she leaned back and reflected. “Quixotic, apprehensive, and utterly ambivalent. In the textbook way.”

I reminded her, “You’re a person who has been remade in just over three days and utterly so in just over the last day.”

With a nod, she concurred, “Succinctly established.”

“Take this weekend and explore yourself. And then we’ll tackle what Monday brings.”

She accepted this without needing to nod. Quietly, she repeated little things I’d told her throughout the day but especially returned to, “It’ll be alright. I will be alright…”

While she still fluttered a bit, it seemed the worst was over. She showed me her books. I flipped through her highlighted, dog-eared, worn dictionary. We did do some homework here and there and even made some notes for The Great Gatsby with regards to the American Dream.

And then Lea asked me, “How do girls…get themselves…umm…how do we…have private…rub the…take care of…tickle…when you feel…well…ummm. Girl…stuuufff…” Each fragment turned Lea a different shade of red as her voice sunk deeper and deeper into herself.

I figured out what she meant, but I had to tell her, “Personally, I have no idea.”

You may now laugh but sixteen-year-old me only had a passing notion of masturbation. I got the gist. I’d been aroused plenty of times with varying results. My thought was just rubbing your legs together without any real deeper, hands-on technique. And this was increasingly a topic which I felt red too about discussing with a recent former boy while sharing the same bed.  

We made a bee-line to favorite books. Lea’s were mostly westerns and adventures, although she wondered if they would hold the same appeal for her now. Between bringing up a few of my reading class favorites, I noticed she was fussing.

When I asked her what it was, she mentioned, “I have odiferous gas…”

All those peppers for dinner. I had a little gas too.

“I don’t mind. Just go ahead.”

Lea shifted and let out a quick “ffft”. I was a little jealous that it smelled rather earthy when it wafted about, whereas mine smelled like something to gag Death itself with a mangled, ripe corpse. We each commented on the other’s farts till we had to break down in giggles.

Art by Alexis Rillera/Anirhapsodist