Ask The Passengers

by A.S. King

In the bathroom, I look at myself in the mirror for a long time. I don’t know what I’m looking for, but I know I’m different. I brush my teeth. Wash my face. With my hair pulled back like this, I look again. And I can see it. Behind my eyes. Something is in there. Something Ellis doesn’t have. Something Mom and Dad don’t have.

I freed myself of something I was faking, and now I want to free myself of all my faking.

So I stare at the picture in my book of the curly-bearded guy with the pug nose, and by the end of study hall, I name him Frank. Frank Socrates. Makes him more huggable.

It occurs to me, as I stand on the edge of the dance floor out of breath, that people here are nice to each other.

Life was a lot simpler a few hours ago when she thought I was just an asexual sea sponge.

I can’t even send my love to her, she’s that bad. Claire, I am not sending any love to you because you are a horrible person right now. Who made you eat bitch for lunch? Who poured you a tall bitch beer float? Who sprinkled bacon bitch on your salad? I nearly crack myself up with these but keep a straight face for the interrogation.

Life was so much easier being an honest nerd who didn’t do anything.

Note to self: Not all gay people will be cool. Not all straight people will be not cool.

think that it would be easy to tell them if they understood that I’m happy. All parents want their kids to be happy, right?

“It’s safe to tell us stuff, okay?” This means it’s not safe to tell them anything.

I lie here and ask myself, Just how many things do I have to invent in my head to survive this? I make Frank S. appear on his favorite bench by the back door. He answers, “As many as it takes.”

maybe if people weren’t so careless, then nothing would need to be caged.

All those people who are chained here thinking that their reputations matter and that this little shit matters are so freaking shortsighted. Dude, what matters is if you’re happy. What matters is your future. What matters is that we get out of here in one piece. What matters is finding the truth of our own lives, not caring about what other people think is the truth of us!”

I start to feel resentful. You mean to tell me that it’s 2011 and this guy gets paid to have remedial talks with high school students about how they shouldn’t hate other people? Isn’t this elementary? Shouldn’t it be automatic? What kind of species are we if we have to have people come talk to us about this crap? And how, if we’re that stupid, did we get to the moon and help build a space station?

I don’t care who you are, where you come from or what God you believe in. I can guarantee you that if you hate, you will never achieve true happiness.”