Chapter 1 - School’s Out

My eyes were heavy. I tried to keep them moving between my notes and the blackboard, tried to focus on the lecture, did my best to keep myself awake. But clearly, it was nowhere near enough; my eyes shut closed and I found myself drifting off to the sleep I had missed last night. It was but a second before I shocked myself awake, but that one second was more than enough for Professor Cassandra Sappho to notice. And yes, that was her actual, legal name, that she had chosen herself. Little surprise then, why I enjoyed her lectures so much.

“Peter, please, if your other lectures are leaving you with so much work you don’t get any sleep, don’t come to class and just sleep in.” Her demeanor was calm, but I could hear some hurt in her voice. “To be fair, I might have sent the City Watch to check on you if you had done so.” The Professor shrugged. Considering I was one of the eight remaining students who actually showed up in person, and had been to every lecture, that comment wasn’t surprising.

“Sorry, Professor. Won’t happen again.” I fixed my posture and got back to taking notes. I definitely had more than enough time on my hands to rest properly. Clearly it wasn’t an issue of overworking making me drowsy. What had kept me up last night was my downstairs neighbor noisily shuffling stuff around. Sounded mostly like chairs and couches scraping the floor. Then came the drums. Usually he was quiet and reserved and barely left his apartment, so I hoped it was a one-time occurence and let him be. But I needed to focus again and move my mind back to the lecture at hand. After all, it WAS the last one of the year, leaving me with a month to sit at home and write the finals for all my classes, all of which I’d have finished in a week, thus letting me enjoy a summer of staying indoors not doing anything, catching up on old shows I hadn’t yet seen from the back catalogue. There wasn’t much to do around Chertovice during summer, truth be told.

Turns out I’d had my little two-second nap very close to the end of the lecture, so congrats me for powering through for so long without doping with caffeine.

“Right, students, you know the drill. You’ve got a month to write your essay, any historical period you want, just focus on a topic that isn’t much addressed from that time.” Professor Sappho began cleaning up her desk, though there wasn’t much to clean up. Laptop, travel mug, and the rapier she used to point at the blackboard.

“Like, for example, I haven’t gotten anyone writing about the medieval lesbian nuns, or the Scythian trans women making estrogen for themselves back then from the 7th to 3rd century BC. I’d really appreciate one of you writing that last one, in case I have to go back to pregnant horse piss for mine.” The Professor clapped to get our attention.

“Now please leave swiftly and in an orderly fashion, as me and my wife intend to use this hall for unintended purposes, and it is not a public show. And if any of you snitch on me, I’ll claim you vaped in here despite the rules.” Unintended purposes could cover many things, but considering the glimpses at the relationship I had gotten, definitely something not safe for work. I shot outta that lecture hall like a cat out of hell. You do not get between two lesbians and their private time. Even if said private time is in an empty lecture hall.

My trip home didn’t take long at all, especially with the free tram system operated by the charming self-aware AI that had developed around 2028. That meant the oldest ones were sixty-one years old, if they were still running. Which I hoped they were; that’s a person you’re killing if you unplug their center. Anyways, a quick three-minute ride from the campus to the stop nearest my apartment building, and a quick walk before I reached my destination.

A familiar, deliciously smelling destination. The diner across from my apartment building. The Question. Why The Question? Clark and Olivia had never told me. Not that I had really bothered asking. Closest I heard, Clark made it up to tell people to question stuff about themselves. Sexuality, gender, food preference. I hadn’t stopped to think about the first two. It’s not like I really could, considering my Dad. Olivia, the waitress at the counter, lit up as I walked in and approached said counter.

“Heya, Pete, done for today?”

“Yeah, done for today. Last lecture of the semester. Now I just have to pass the finals and I’ll have finished a year of college.” I couldn’t deny Olivia’s inherent cuteness, her red hair cut into a bob and tied back with a bow to keep it out of her face, her freckles reminding me of constellations. And, well, the broken nose she got while defending herself against an assault was still really charming.

“Sweet, good luck on those. You want the usual?” I nodded at her as she leaned back to yell into the kitchen. “Clark! Pete’s usual!”

“Succubus’ Cock, no cheese, veggie chilli instead of beef, no cum, coming right up, Livie!” called back the burly man from inside the kitchen. Olivia’s face contorted into a frustrated grimace as she dragged her hand across it.

“Clark, I told you about the damn names! So many times! You’re scaring the customers!” She turned to face the kitchen now; I could hear sizzling from within, most likely the sausage split lengthwise getting griddled.

“I don’t even make spicy food here, what’s there to be afraid of? I told you the names give the food character and make the dishes memorable! Who the hell is gonna order a Sloppy Joe with Chicken Sausage and Pickled Hot Peppers with a splash of in-house hot sauce?!” Another sizzle, different smell, buttery, definitely toasting the submarine roll right then.

“Regular people, Clark! Regular people!” I couldn’t keep it in at that point, I snorted. Their odd couple comedy always made my day. “Oh don’t you start too, Pete, don’t encourage him. I am amazed the mind of a man as ace as him could come up with such lewd things.” There was a ring behind Olivia, followed by the sounds of a paper-wrapped sandwich being put down on the counter with a satisfying thud, Clark’s arm perfectly visible. A sleeve tattoo of ingredients done on a canvas of black skin.

“To go as usual, and eh, what the hell, Pete looks like he could use some bean juice, throw in a cup of it, on the house. Rough night?” Clark might be lewd and loud, but that was mostly a front he built up to test people’s tolerances. If you got to know him, really know him, you’d see that his eyes were those of a person ready to sit you down and feed you after you had been starving for a week. Definitely why his cooking was so delicious. Even with the ridiculous names.

“Yeah, downstairs neighbor decided to start redecorating or something at two a.m. and kept at it for three hours.” I rubbed my eyes and yawned as Olivia prepared me a cup of coffee to go.

“Soy milk and two sugars.” She knew exactly how I liked it. I swiped my ID on the little reader to confirm my order and list it in my purchases.

“You mean that greasy, long-haired dude who dresses like a goth wizard from the side of an old dude’s van?” Clark asked, and I nodded. It was an apt description. “Funny thing is, he walked in about half an hour ago, the weirdest order ever. I almost told him to go to a grocery store to get it, but hey, not my place to judge.” He shrugged and turned around to return to his work.

“Clark, you literally have a sandwich made out of Kraft singles and Wonder Bread that you cover in gold and call The Lannister to shit on rich people. If that isn’t judgemental, I don’t know what is.”

“All of us know they deserve it, and it’s an edible piece of art commenting on their decadence and obscene wealth. I’d have charged them 500 for one if they still existed,” Clark replied to Olivia as he checked the clock, and I checked myself out of the building and across the street, to my current lodging.

The apartment building I was in wasn’t too big. Seven floors plus a basement. Mine was A-201. The A was because the apartment complex was really four buildings connected via a basement tunnel, listed as A through D. But well, I owned my place, and rent hadn’t been a thing since before I was born. Rest in Pieces Landlord Class, nobody has missed you since you got axed in 2035.

When I walked past Greasy Wizard Dude’s Apartment, whose name had escaped and continued to escape my knowledge, I heard a sound of chalk. I really wish I could say I wanted to call him something other than various euphemisms for greasy wizard dude, but that would be lying. I honestly just shrugged off the chalk noises; he was probably drawing a Human Transmutation Circle from Fullmetal Alchemist to show off to his greasy wizard friends or something. Why’d he have to start it at two in the morning and leave me awake, I couldn’t say.

Up the stairs and into my abode I went. One big-ass room, a kitchen with a bar in one corner, the door to the bathroom in another, my bed and desk and chair all scrunched up close by so I could comfortably watch stuff on my computer while lying in bed. Who needed a TV nowadays, anyways? Nothing but a waste of precious space, really, of which I had very little. I’d like to politely ask you to ignore the fact that my apartment was twenty feet across and a perfect rectangle, thank you very much. Having the extra room was convenient for any future endeavors. Like, maybe I’d start exercising to get more in shape and would need all that extra space! Okay no, that was a lie, I felt too awkward about the idea. I never really wanted to bulk up or anything. The idea of being huge and muscular like a bodybuilder left me nauseous, almost as badly as eating too much pizza could leave me. Couldn’t tell you why. And on top of that, I had never been a fan of sports to begin with. Despite the noble efforts of modern schooling, sports clubs still were pits of toxic masculinity that forced one month of P.E. on us poor kids every semester. Horrible places, locker rooms. No privacy and everyone judged you.

I shook my head, trying to organise my thoughts and get off that rail. I mostly managed. I could still smell the overpowering scent of deodorant. I hoped my dinner would distract me even further, as I sat down to eat it.

It did. Sausage snap was there, the greasy goodness from the veggie chilli, the acidity from the peppers. The reason I didn’t get any ‘cum’ is because that was a hot sauce made out of horseradish, hot peppers, garlic and ginger, and it was way too powerful for me. I had a little dab once, and even though it was delicious, I needed the on hand emergency respirator afterwards, due to the coughing fit.

I had finished the sandwich so fast, I had barely the time to launch any cartoons. I settled on the 2018 She-Ra in the end, enjoying it just like I had enjoyed it the first ten times I watched it. I grew up on these old cartoons thanks to my grandmas and really liked them, alright? Sue me. They were fun and seeing them get more and more queer representation over the years was exciting, although I couldn’t really tell you why. Maybe I shared the excitement of my lesbian grandmothers, who knows.

I took one look at the clock, one look at my bed, and shrugged. Might as well catch up on the Z’s I missed. Pretty sure Olivia had given me the decaf by accident, since I wasn’t perking up. Reluctantly, I made my way over to the bathroom. I avoided looking in the mirror. It felt like my reflection was silently judging me every time I looked in one, so I had minimised my exposure to the bare necessities. My shower was a quick affair; I had not looked down since I stripped and kept my eyes closed while the warm water ran down my skin. I told myself it was because I didn’t want to get soap or shampoo in my eyes. I had told myself that for years now. I mean, would you want shampoo in your eyes? Tear-free shampoo is tear as in rip apart, not tear as in cry. Anyways, the shower was followed by a quick teeth-brushing and an even quicker fall on my bed, to enjoy my hard-earned rest. But despite my exhaustion, I had trouble falling asleep. A thought kept replaying in my head over and over again. A thought that had kept replaying itself for months now. ‘Maybe I’ll wake up as a girl tomorrow.’

What kind of guy thinks that before falling asleep?