FieryBlackbird

So, I'm finally back! (Sort of; if interested what's been going on read the end note). This Halloween story is very much light-hearted and (hopefully) cute 🤞🏻. 

Trigger warnings 

1) lots of swearing 

2) self-loathing (it does indeed get much better). 

Hope you enjoy!!!

Today is the first day of school after summer break. Freshman year of high school came and went in a blur. After a fun-filled break hanging with friends, playing video games, and showing animals, there’s no greater boredom then the first few days of classes. It's always filled with teachers going over expectations, the syllabus, and how much “fun” we're going to have in this class. It's always the same, and I'm over it already. I've stopped believing their lies long ago though there is one class I am excited for! Besides advanced science my brain helpfully provides.

 Language, or more precisely, French class, in my case. The school offers both French and Spanish, so I chose French after hearing the teacher is much nicer. My friends started taking language classes their freshman year, so I happen to know for a fact that the language teachers let us pick names. That’s exciting I because, although I never understood it, I just don't like my name.

−

 “So class, I know every teacher is going over their syllabus today, so we’re not doing that. Normally, on our first day in this class, you choose your names from a list I provide, and we find out all about each other,” Mrs. Catarone says with a pleasant smile in her voice. 

“Instead, I’m thinking about trying something slightly different,” her eyes stopping on me for just a moment before continuing. “Your homework is to go home and find a French name, origin or among most popular, that you’d like to be called during your tenure in our time together,” multiple groans can be heard from multiple classmates. 

“There will be multiple ground rules though, and it will be due on Friday. You should develop a small list as I’m not having every boy be, ‘Jacque,’ and every girl be, ‘Jacqueline,’ nor will I have you choose anything derogatory. I reserve the right to say no, so please don’t abusive this privilege,” her expression growing dark before snapping back to all smiles when she says, “I hope we enjoy each other’s company. Now onto…,” the words growing distant as I start wondering what French names I’ll gravitate towards.

−

 Those two days went far too quickly in my opinion. I had narrowed my list down to five, and they all had something in common. All of them in America are leaning neutral or feminine. How am I supposed to say out loud to the class? I just... I'm frightened by the reactions that I could receive. I'm so in my head that I don't initially hear the teacher say, “Monsieur Dane-Yorke. Your selection, please?” I flinch for an unknown reason.

 “Oh, uhhh, I didn't do the assignment.” Great! You're a pathetic fucking retard. I don't even have the ducking balls to provide the list out loud. You truly are pathetic. You don't deserve those names. You deserve to wither.

 Madam Catarone must see some type of emotion cross my face because she simply sighs before saying, “Very well. I wish to speak with you, after class.” What the what? That freezes my brain because that's a first. Before that, she would just sigh and give them a name. Why am I so different?

−

“You wanted to see me, Madame?” Well, isn’t that pathetic? I can hear my own confusion in my voice. I can’t help but internally roll my eyes.

“Why didn’t you give me a French name?” As if she’s gazing into my soul, she watches me for what feels like forever, but in all actuality, it probably wasn't longer than five seconds. “Yes, Monsieur Dane-Yorke,” I flinch again. “You are friends with James, Edwin, and Sofia, correct?”

I incline my head slightly, “Oui, Madame Catarone. I am.”

“Well, Je happen to have them in mon cours de français de 2e niveau. Ils parlent de toi.” She speaks in franglais. 

Being new to French but being around said friends has jump started my language learning. It still takes me several moments before I translate it too, ‘they’re in my French II class. They speak about me.’ 

She must see the look of understanding because she starts speaking again, “The very fact that they speak so highly of you, the fact that you can understand me, and the look of hesitation on your face leads me to believe that you actually did the required homework.”

She has her kind smile and eyes that puts me at ease. A guilty look that causes me to turn away from her as I nod. “Yes, Madam. I completed it,” I say as my shoulders slump inward.

Gently and soothingly, “Good. Now, may I see the list?” She sticks her hand out.

Defeated, I hand the list to her. “I like the fifth one the best,” I mumble out as my gaze drifts to the floor again. Damn well knowing what’s on it.

She looks at the list and shortly says, “Hmm, I see. You’re very creative.” She goes silent again as if thinking. Fuck! What’s she gonna do? She’s going to call be a freak or pervert, isn’t she? I knew I was broken and wrong to like those names. I just hope she’s going to do me a solid and act like this never happened. A guy doesn’t want those names for himself, at least in America. I knew I was disgusting.

All at once, I feel warm soft arms gently pat my shoulder. I managed to look up from my self-loathing, self-defeating tendencies to see Madam Catarone with a bright smile on her lips and in her eyes. “It's OK honey. there's nothing wrong with you. I would love to have an Ariane in this class,” still smiling reassuringly at me. “I'm sorry if me being quiet freaked you out. There's nothing wrong with wanting a feminine name. I was just thinking how to guarantee that this,” pausing, seeming to consider her words carefully, “as a safe space to explore yourself. Would you be comfortable if others knew Ariane’s your name?”

I think about it. I mean I really think about it. About all the little things this would mean, all the things people could say about me. I think about if Edwin, James, and Sofia what accept me using that name. Maybe this is just me being hopeful, but I'd like to think they would. I mean Sofia is an out lesbian, and the other two are proud allies. With them, I know it's possible. Fuck, what everyone else says or does to me. I'm doing something for myself. With a renewed energy, I nod my head yes. “I'd love to be called Ariane,” I blurt out!

That gets a chuckle out of the teacher, “Well then, Ariane. Looks like you have an A for this assignment and a name you can proudly call your own. Congratulations,” she says, this time with an award-winning smile. “I'm looking forward to having you in my class and seeing what your Halloween costume is going to be,” she says as she looks at her old watch. “I think it’ll be very you.” 

Even though I don't really know what I'm doing yet, I can't help but smile. “Now off you go, you’ve got five minutes to make your bus."