Page 9 of Precise Justice

“Okay,” Robbie gave her a one word answer.

“Just okay?” Priscilla asked as she backed out of the parking space.

“Well, no, it was good, I guess. I mean, everyone seems more serious about school. Not like the ones at Sanger Middle School.

“Plus, there’s only thirty-two seventh graders. We’re divided into two different classes of sixteen each. We all take the same courses, but not at the same time.”

“You made a couple friends?”

“Oh, those two girls who ran by?”

“Yes,” Priscilla said as she continued to drive.

“I, ah, well, one of them is a boy transitioning. He’s been here since fifth grade. Everybody knows and no one seems to care,” Robbie said.

“And what do you think about that?” Priscilla asked.

“Uh, well, I guess relieved. I mean, maybe they won’t treat me like a freak.”

“Are you more relaxed, more accepting of it?”

There was a long silence. Robbie stared out the windshield at the rain without answering, hoping she would let it go.

“Robbie?” she asked.

“Mom, leave it alone. Let me deal with it, please,” was Robbie’s answer.

Robbie excused himself from the dinner table saying he had homework to do. At the same time, Priscilla announced she had a meeting of one of her women’s political groups. This left it up to Blake, who had made dinner, to clean up by himself.

Being an only child, of course Robbie had his own bedroom. Theirs was a four bedroom house, each with its own full bathroom. His parents were in separate bedrooms and Robbiecould not remember far back enough to when they were not. How the two of them got together enough to bring Robbie into the world was a mystery.

Robbie’s classes consisted of science, math, civics/social studies, gym, a study hall and, something new to him, social justice. Before studying and homework, he washed off the makeup and changed into unisex clothing, jeans and a sweatshirt. He continued wearing the silk panties.

Around 8:45, almost finished with his schoolwork; while sitting at his desk, he looked at the mirror. Without warning Robbie burst into tears. He continued for almost fifteen minutes, sobbing uncontrollably.

When he ran out of tears, he went into his bathroom and washed his face. While looking at the face in the bathroom mirror above the sink, he took a deep breath. His eyes had never looked so sad.

“Are you ever going to admit it, even to yourself?”

FIVE

The student cashier handed Robbie his change. She then placed Robbie’s purchase in a small, paper bag, smiled at Robbie and thanked him. It was his lunch hour at school. Robbie had eaten quickly then hurried to the bookstore to make a purchase.

Exiting the bookstore into the hallway, Robbie found two girls he had met. It was his second week at The Wheaton Academy. In that short span he had already met and made friends with several students, all girls. Using the girls’ lavatories helped although at first, Robbie was hesitant. It still made him feel a bit awkward, maybe even ashamed using the girls’ bathroom. Changing for gym class helped alleviate that.

Because of the number of trans students, Wheaton had set up separate locker rooms for them. One for transitioning boys and one for transitioning girls.

Gym class included seventh, eighth and ninth grade students. The first time in the trans girls’ locker room there were four other trans girls who immediately made Robbie feel welcome.

“May I be excused?” Robbie asked at the dinner table. “I have homework to do.”

“Certainly,” Priscilla said with a smile. Blake, Robbie’s father, as usual, said nothing.

On his way upstairs, hurrying, Robbie was thankful she did not call him Roberta. This was the name his mother had chosen for him. Somehow it made him feel as if the decision to switch him was final.

When he arrived in his bedroom the first thing he did was lock the door. This room, if it had not been before, was now his private sanctuary. The only place he felt truly safe. The only place he could still be himself, whatever that was.

Robbie quickly found the item he had purchased earlier in the bookstore, a 6 x 9 diary with a lock a three-year-old could break. A better lock was at the top of Robbie’s list. Something with a chain. School work would have to wait.

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