Twelfth Knight

by Alexene Farol Follmuth

Humility’s easy to preach when you’re not the one being lauded by the crowd.

You gotta see it, Coach says. See it, make it happen. Success is not an accident.

Champions are half intention, half work.

“You have to let them win sometimes, Vi. It’s a matter of keeping the peace.” “Um, no it’s not,” I say, a little annoyed now. It’s not like she’s new to RPGs or fandom. It’s not this one specific group of boys that I’m bitchily terrorizing. It’s completely systemic. “Why should I have to shrink myself down so they can feel big?

“You catch more flies with honey.” “I have absolutely no use for flies.”

“There’s no such thing as a stupid question,” she recites. (Her mom is a teacher.) “Any question you could answer with five seconds of deductive thought is a stupid question, but okay,” I reply.

I do think my mother would make a fantastic husband—going to work all day and coming home to a home-cooked meal and a clean house does seem like a wonderful daydream,

He has Mom’s temperament, I have her view of the world, and somehow that makes us polar opposites.

Being nice to a geek while being visibly female is the kiss of death. Do you know how many times I’ve gotten vulgar messages or explicit pictures? And if I say no, do you know how many times I’ve been called a bitch?

believe it or not, not every girl wants to be a princess or a healer or some big-chested daydream who only plays to lose. I may like girly things on occasion, but I’m not just here for people to look at. I don’t want to be considered beautiful without being seen as capable, too.

of course I’m angry. I’m angry all the time. From the betrayals of my government to the hypocrisies of my peers, it seems like the awfulness never rests and neither can I.

I don’t know how any girl can exist in the world without being perpetually furious.

I push my chair back, feeling that weird amalgam of things that only happens when you’ve stayed up way too late and the whole world feels kind of fake, like maybe nothing else exists outside of you and your thoughts.

I don’t actually need to be liked. What I want is to be respected,

the only thing in this life that actually matters is how we’re connected to each other,” she says. “There’s nothing else you get to keep or take with you except the relationships you have. The way you love, the love you give, that matters.”

I’m never more aware of what color my skin is than when people are suddenly asking me how they can be a better ally. Uh, don’t call me an Oreo or tell me I sound white like it’s impressive? Everyone wants racism to be this bomb they can disarm rather than what it is, which is … fluid. Usually it’s so small it’s not even worth explaining. And even if I could, I wouldn’t, because nobody wants to listen to the ways they failed, period, much less how they might have failed me.

By “mercurial” he probably means bitchy,

She walks like nobody’s going to stop her. Even I don’t walk like that, like I make no apologies for existing. My swagger is built on a foundation of adoration and envy. Hers is a flat-out refusal to let anyone tell her who to be.

Never meet your heroes.” “Seriously?” “People are always disappointing in real life.” She shrugs. “They never live up to what you want them to be. This way, he’ll always be interesting.”

“Your life is full of moments.” “All lives are full of moments, Viola,”

My friends want me to move backward but I can’t, I can only move forward, which is going a lot slower than I thought.

“Why are feelings so brutal?” she wails. “Everyone makes friendship seem like garden parties and sleepovers when really it’s Jurassic Park for emotions.”

“Jack,” I say desperately, “you know I’m like … a bitch, right?” He snorts a little. “Sure, Vi, if that means you never give up. Never accept defeat. Never bend just because someone expects you to.” His hand still dances near mine. “If that makes you a bitch, Vi, then fine, I hope you never change. In fact, I hope you change me. I like to think you already have.”

for a second of perfect freedom, I don’t need the winning TD, I don’t need the records, I don’t need a ring or a trophy to prove to me exactly who I am. It’s enough to be here, to take part; it’s enough that she sees me. It means everything to have come this far.