bro i'm not gay tho

Charlie's pov

There's this boy… girl… boy… no definitely girl. Her name is Charity. She is a trans (mtf, male to female)through hormone surgery. She wants to be a girl. I don't mind, I think she is still attractive. We really connected this year because we are in the same gym class. When we first started talking and dming I learned a lot of things; Like for example she/he has 3 siblings, two cats, and a dog, her friends, dreams crushes and more. I'm really interested in Charity. I hope she is interested in me. I want her to like me back. All of my friends have shipped us together; we have a slim chance. I always have Charity on my mind. Charity is an astonishing person who will always be appreciated in my heart, if I can't be with her then I never wanna be with anyone. Well, that's a little extreme; you get it.

In my mind, I never really thought of it as gay to have a crush on a guy (even thought she's transitioning to a girl). I've seen a few attractive faces in my days. There's the cute boys, the hot boys, and omg drop-dead gorgeous boys. I never really liked a girl though, like more than a supporter. I am a little feminine but not as fabulous as Charity. I admire makeup, but it's not my true calling. Like most boys my age, I wanna be a sports king. I love lacrosse. Anyway, I invite Charity to all my games cause you know. I like her. If Charity and I were to date; we would have the world in our hands. I would love and kiss her always. We'd have fun movie nights, cuddles, late night texts, gm and gn texts, little things to make each other's day. I would love her with all my heart; I want them to know that.

From what you've read so far you probably think I'm a normal closeted gay kid and live an average life right. Well, you're wrong. I'm not just closeted, my parents are both Cristian and strictly believe that gays are against the will of God. But I think God loves us for who we are as a whole not as bits and scraps. Anyway both my parents are strict with rules. Since God tells them I must obey every command, I have to be home right at curfew or this but is getting beat. So yeah other than that my parents are pretty cool; Except for the fact that 4/7 nights of the week I have to spend at Charity's. Cause my parents are abusive. They believe they can abuse me for doing the smallest wrongdoing. It's so annoying because I have to try and explain the bruises to Charity cause she worries honestly about me. I always feel sorry for lying because I feel like she can see right through me. She's never really said anything to me before. So I don't really know if she knows it's driving me insane.

For those of you who are wondering "are you depressed?". Yes, I am I was diagnosed at age 12. I'm a high school, Junior. High schools being well for me so far. I do self harm like a lot I don't really know why. All I know is that it numbs my brain from abusive thoughts. My parents won't send me to rehab cause "God" will heal me. I believe in God and pray like most Christians. He never really helped me. So I'm screwed I guess.

In gym class

I walk into the locker room and get greeted by a hug from behind. "Hi, Bebe," a familiar voice says. "Hi, Charity," I state turning around and lifting her up. An excited squeal came from her mouth. "Oh um, Charity, I've been wondering what are your pronouns?" I ask putting her down. "Oh um I prefer she; I'm okay with anything though," she says calmly. "Thank you. I know it was kinda awkward question," I say massaging my arm. She grabs my arm and gives it a firm squeeze. "Hey, it's okay I get it. We should probably get changed now times almost up." We put our regular clothes in our lockers and change into our gym clothes. I notice Charity has a bra on. "Hey, Charity what's up with the bra?" I ask. "The hormones are giving me mood swings and such so somedays I chose to wear a bra cause my body just wants to,'' Charity explains. "Oh okay," I say pretending to understand what she just said.

At the end of the day

Since Charity and I have been talking a lot; we have a habit of contacting each other on Instagram and stuff. As my bus pulls up I pull out my phone; turning on my favorite playlist. I cheek Instagram. Ohh a new message.

Charity: Hey where are you?

Charlie: I'm at school but to get on the bus you?

Charity: I'm in my home.

Charlie: I gtg talk to you when I get home okay.

I hop into my seat and prepare for a long bus ride, depressing but good music, and thoughts of Charity.

The whole bus ride home I can't stop thinking about how beautiful Charity is. The perfect slim face, plump lips, a gorgeous smile, slender body, and a perfect heart. I unlock my phone and see I got a new Instagram notification. I open my messages and see it's from Charity.

Charity: Hey I know this is kinda awkward question but could you send me a pic of you?

Charlie: Yeah sure why?

Charity: cause I wanna use it for something.

Charlie: okay fine.

I open Snapchat and use the best filter. It's the one that gives you freckles and the little flower. Yeah, I love that one. But anyways I get a good pic of me in that filter and sent it to Charity.

Charity: Thx Bebe

Charlie: Hey I got a question. Why do you call me Bebe but everyone else bae or babe?

Charity: Cause your my best friend I love you. So I had to give you a unique nickname and promised myself that I shall not call anyone else by that name.

Charlie: Oh um ok. So what was the picture for?

Charity: Oh I wanted to have you like my background; cause seeing you smile is like owning the world.

Charlie: Oh um okay...

Could you send me a pic of you cause you're my best friend and I love seeing you happy it's surpassing?

Charity: sis of course!!

I know this is charity case she is the only girl who still says sis is 2032.

Charity is quick about sending that pic.

Charlie: thx bro ilysm

Charity: Me to can't wait to see you tomorrow.

Next day

I was walking into the locker room when I noticed Charity was already there. "Hey, Charity what's up," I say walking over. I look over Charity's shoulder and see she's crying. "Charity what's wrong?" I ask. "My mom ran outta money for my hormone surgery," she said wiping her eyes. I pull her in for a hug and let her cry on my shoulder.

"Charity it's gonna be okay. I'll help you. My parents and I will help you. Okay?" I say trying to comfort her. "I love you, Charlie," she cries whispers into my ear. "I love you too Charity," I say pulling her in and supporting her.

Once I feel she had calmed down a bit I let her explain. "My aunt has payments due every month, but her boss docked her pay so she can't pay for this month. and if I don't get my hormones then they will disappear and I will be forced into using male hormones again and I don't want that. So please please help me!" She starts crying again; I try to calm her down,"Hey, hey Charity calm down you're okay here. Your hormones aren't going anywhere." I pull her into a hug still feeling ashamed because I can't do anything else to help her. I feel a slight shiver coming from Charity. I look down at her and her eyes are closed. I push her away and reach for her wrist. No pulse. SHOT!!! I gotta get her to the nurse.

I tear off my sweatshirt (not literally) and put Charity in it. "Charity don't leave me now," I say almost in tears as I hoist her up on my back,"I was really starting to like you!!" I rush over to the gym teacher. "Mr.***** may I please take Charity to the nurse. She really needs it!" I say ready to run. "Go take her, "He says. I bolt down the hall. Everything that happened after that was a blur. I remember a lot of talking, yelling and some ambulance lights. Then all of a sudden I was at the hospital. As all these things run back into my mind, and then I realize Charity might be dead. I feel a pit in my stomach I can't breathe, tears are streaming down my face. Charity's Aunt burst through the door. She looks around frantically until we make eye contact. "Oh Charlie," she says rushing over to me. I jump out of my seat and hug her. I just want all of this to be over. "Hey hey. Charlie she'll be fine," Melanie says.

As I start to relax I notice a nurse walking over to us. "Are you Charlie Huntson?" she asks. "Yes, that's me," I say in response. "Charity is a making a full recovery," she says. "Thank you. Bless you," I say jumping into her arms. "She is in room 418," she says. I pull away from the nurse to grab Charity's aunt meline and pull her to the elevator.