Chapter Text
The two of them took Duff Ave up onto 13th Street, dodging most of campus on the way back home. Something told Leah that Carson didn’t really feel like thinking about classes, and so the usual route of University Boulevard wasn’t really sparking joy at the moment.
The car was eerily silent and Carson didn’t like it. He desperately tried to clear the air, going “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” on repeat, but it fell on stiff ears. Leah wasn’t able to actually figure out how to console him, not while he was sobbing in the passenger seat as she was driving him home. So she just kind of sat there, alone and afraid with another person.
As the two of them pulled into UV, Carson stopped crying for a moment to walk inside. He slammed the door after Leah walked in, and just sat there, curled into a ball, his lanky frame shaking while Leah got him a glass of water.
“I’m really having a realistic depiction of a panic attack, huh?”, Carson asked.
Leah gave a bit of a chuckle, before remembering who she had to be right now. “Shut up, not the time.”
“I just don’t- I don’t know. I don’t know.”
“Yeah, I- I didn’t like it either.”
“No, not- I mean it’s not that I didn’t- I don’t know. I don’t know if it worked, but fuck. Fuck”, Carson replied as he tried to lift himself up off the floor, only to end up in the same position. He looked down at himself and he swore he could see through his hands, like he would fade away if Leah stopped looking at him. But she wouldn’t, because she is good. “I- fuck. I need to- I need to talk to you about something but I don’t know if I can.”
It was at this moment that Leah finally realized that Carson wasn’t having a regular old panic attack, realistic depiction or otherwise. He was having a flashback to something, or at least she conjectured that much. Really, she had no idea what was happening in his head, but she knew that she wanted to help at all costs. That’s just the type of person that she was.
Carson and Leah walked up the stairs, past the LED strips that Leah had painstakingly attached to the ceiling gutters, and they sat down in her bedroom. Carson had never been in here before except to help her unpack. She’d done a lot with the place. There was a plushie net lined above the bed, full of various merchandise from shows that Carson considered to be “a little bit too Tumblr”, and a few Hollow Knight figures. There was a rug, but he couldn’t really parse out the texture. Red sheets. A bowling ball, for some reason. Pictures.
On the dresser towards the side of the room, there was a cheap rotating star projector. It was the kind that was just an outer dome moving along a track, with a constant internal light source. Leah turned it on, and it started filling the room with an idyllic, cartoonish imitation of a night sky. Carson wondered why people built things like that. They seemed stupid to him.
The two of them sat on the edge of her bed, next to each other. Carson realized that he’d never been this close to a girl’s bed before. Maybe he should have panic attacks more often.
“So, what’s up?”, Leah asked.
“...I was forced to drink lead paint when I was 2”, Carson replied.
“No, but, really. You initiated this, I’m not going to let you duck out of it like that.”
“I don’t- I don’t think I’m ready. I don’t. Know.”
“Carson, ever since we’ve met, you’ve just been staring at me like you’re an uninvited guest. You know I started talking to you for a reason, right?”
“...What?”
“I like talking to you. I wouldn’t be talking to you if I didn’t like doing it, or if I didn’t care”, Leah said. She leaned back a bit to look at the stars projected onto the ceiling. She found them comforting.
“Yeah.”
“You know, my parents weren’t great either.”
Carson was taken aback. “How did you…”
“I can see the way you look at them, you know. When you were moving, you talked to them like you wanted them out as soon as possible. I’m just perceptive like that, I guess. Kind of makes me want to be a therapist.”
“You’d be a good one”, Carson lied. He curled back into a ball, putting his feet on the bed.
“My parents are rich assholes. They moved out here from Long Island a while back because… actually, I don’t know, I think it was the education system or something. Something about having a kid made them want to go out here. I don’t know what it was. When I realized I was lesbian, I figured they’d never want to talk to me again, and I was right”, Leah said in a somber, collected tone. “Despite that, I still wish I could see them again. But… I’m stuck here.”
“Is- Is this your way of trying to get me to open up?”
“It’s my way of letting you know I trust you.”
Carson sighed. “I already told you I was homeless. What else do you need to know?”
Leah looked at him with the same expression she’d always given him when this type of conversation happened. It was the type of expression you gave someone who went a little too far. “No, you weren’t. You made that up, remember?”
“I figured it would get you off my case. I didn’t tell it to anybody else. That would be cruel.”
“It won’t. Carson, I care about you. I mean it.”
“Yeah, but- it’s just- i-it’s kind of a lot.”
“You’re kind of a lot. But I still like you. ‘A lot’ is fine.”
Carson exhaled deeply, and looked up at the ceiling, sobbing. “I- fuck. I just- I don’t know. Seeing Jax on that screen, it’s- I don’t want to end up like that. I don’t. But he reminds me a bit too much of myself.”
“...Why?”
“I- fuck it”, Carson said, as he rolled up his raggedy grey hoodie. His arm was covered in marks, faint now, but still visible, where his skin was notably lighter. There were bumps right by where his wrist met his hand, still very obvious, like chunks had been taken out of him and healed over. “I… back in high school, I did this to myself. All the time.”
“Fuck.”
“I would bring an X-Acto knife to school, and I would rip myself open in the bathroom, then Band-Aid over it like it was nothing. Nobody ever noticed, ‘cause I wore hoodies constantly. I think they just thought I was a school shooter or something, but I was way too much of a nerd to fit that kinda archetype”, Carson said. He stopped crying, and looked at himself. “Started with a pair of flush cutters, though, the ones that I used to build model planes and stuff. I got them out from my toolbox and I took out chunks of my wrist. I liked- I still like the way blood flows down skin. It’s comforting.”
“I had no idea-”
“I guess the problem is I did it every time I thought about being a girl”, Carson said, quickly. His voice got more ragged as the sentence progressed, like it would kill him if he held it in for any longer.
Leah paused and stared at Carson’s arm, then shifted her gaze to look at him. She gave a warm smile. “...You know, I kind of figured it was something like that.”
“You did?”
Leah exhaled deeply. “When I was in high school, I tried a bunch of stuff. I went by he/him, I went by they/them, I joined the GSA, I left the GSA. It was called Spectrum or whatever. Really original name. But… I don’t know. I just- know the signs now, and you’re hitting all of them. Baggy hoodie, uncut hair, vague need to ‘not be like other guys’…”
“Hey, I’ll have you know that looking like some gangly asshole is the pinnacle of masculinity.”
“Yeah, yeah. But. You know.”
“I figured I was making it up”, Carson said, as he remembered to stay in character.
“...You can be a girl, Carson. If that’s what you want to be called. Just because it didn’t work for me doesn’t mean it won’t work for you.”
“I don’t even know how I’d choose a thing like that. I’ve never done it before.”
“First time for everything, right?”
“I just… I don’t want to end up like he did”, as Carson gestured with his hands, doing the circle thing that he always did. He did it to signal a vague outsider that shouldn’t be named. He did it because he was ashamed.
“I don’t know if he’s- I don’t know if Jax is good trans representation? But I know you can’t really pick that kind of thing… I guess I’m excited that you care this much about something I care about.”
“I think I always did. I just. Don’t think I noticed ‘till now. I like hearing you talk about it, I like the way your face lights up, I like how enthusiastic you are, I like how you’re willing to rant about what works and what doesn’t. I like… I like the sound of your voice a lot”, Carson said, as his voice cracked on every like.
Leah was taken aback. She didn’t really think about her own voice too often, not since she stopped thinking about that kind of thing. “...thanks.”
“Sorry, was that weird? I don’t want you to think that I wanna be you, or something.”
“If you did, I wouldn’t blame you.”
“...Ooookay.”
“I mean, did you plan on telling Doug? Or Casey, or anyone else?”
“I don’t think I’m ready yet. I don’t even know if- I, actually, don’t even call me she yet. Just- preempting you. I’m. I need time.”
“You know none of them are going to judge you for that kind of thing, right? We’re in Ames. We’ll be okay. It’s not Colo, it’s not Nevada, it’s not any of those surrounding areas that are scary. We’re here.”
Carson looked at Leah with open eyes. “What, because of all the trans flags around Main Street?”, he said sarcastically.
“Yeah, because of all the trans flags around Main Street! I hear Studio 13’s gonna open around here soon.”
“The gay bar in Iowa City? Yeah, that makes me feel really included.”
“I don’t know why you’re so cagey about this. It’s you, Carson. It’s just you.”
“...You know, when I walk into the library, not the school library, the public one, there’s a quilt, right? It’s got trans flags on it, and you would think that it’s some expression of pride, or something, just looking at the posters.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen it. I never bothered to take a look.”
“It’s a list of names compiled by local high schoolers. Every square on the quilt is a dead tranny.”
“...Oh.”
“I don’t want to end up on a quilt like that. Not after this was the first state to completely drop them as a protected category. I just- I just want to lay low ‘til I get out of here. I just have to get out of here.”
“...Okay.” Leah paused. “...Your secret’s safe with me.”
“I know.”
“You won’t end up like he did. Not if I have anything to do with it.”
“I know”, Carson said as he started crying again. He didn’t know why he couldn’t cry for most of the conversation. Shock, probably.
Leah placed her hand on Carson’s thigh, and he shivered a little bit, sobbing inconsolably. “...You know, I happen to think you’d be a pretty… cute… girl?”, she said, hesitating.
“I- you-”
Leah thought about kissing him in that moment, but thankfully determined that it wasn’t the time. Instead, she got up and rummaged through her drawers, down beneath all the vaguely futch outfits she put on. Her frame was very unlike Carson’s, but she had some stuff from back when she was thinner. She kept those around because they felt to her like ritual objects for a summoning prayer to manifest a body she liked more, but she didn’t want to think about that. “I did always wonder why I liked you that much, given how gay I am, but I guess that explained itself. Guess I preordered.”
Carson felt like throwing up, but stomached it for her. He couldn’t bear for her to say his name any other way. “I just… I just want you to be the only one who knows. At least for now.”
“Well, if you want to give something a try…”, Leah said as she pulled out some eyeliner and an old long-sleeved top. It was grey, with black stripes.
Help.
I bite down, and bite hard
Wake up at the crack of dawn
Don’t notice, must’ve beat it over your head
Leah didn’t actually know the lyrics to anything on Census Designated. The vocals were far too shoegaze-y to parse them out, so she tended to use it as background music for various scenarios that definitely didn’t fit the context. She once gave road head to someone while Video played, but when Contingency Song came on, her hookup asked her to change the music as soon as it hit Please don’t hurt me / Please don’t hurt me / Please don’t hurt me. It was interesting how long it took to actually have the hookup recoil, at least it was to her.
She’d listened to this album too many times, anyway. She was used to it by now.
Carson was sitting in front of a body-length mirror, wearing real women’s clothes, not just femboy posturing clothes, for the first time in his life. He liked the texture of the top he was given, but didn’t like how scratchy the tag was. He hated that the first thing that he thought of was the texture, given how much time he dedicated to abnegating his autism.
At least his scars weren’t showing. He wondered if those would keep him from passing. He wondered about passing in general.
Leah shook the container of liquid liner, and placed the brush against the upper lash line on Carson’s face. His eye-bags from perpetual overuse of shitty fake weed were obvious, but Leah didn’t want to bother trying to conceal that at the moment. Carson felt how cold the makeup was on his skin, and wanted to shiver, but Leah told him to keep still, so he did it for her.
Chew me up, spit me out before you can swallow
I peel my eyes open, everyone knows, and nobody cares
I know it’s you ‘cause I know how it feels when your hand’s in my
hair
I peel my eyes open, everyone knows, and nobody cares
Inner to middle now. Carson still didn’t move, because he had to stay in character. Leah retraced the line a few times before applying a set of wings with the brush. She used an old credit card of hers to keep the line straight on Carson’s face, and he wondered how much of this was going to feel overwhelmingly artificial. Fake. It was going to feel fake, wasn’t it.
I’m all dolled up for you, I’m not stupid
If I’m not the hawk, like you said
Say it again, just for me
The music started to swell from Leah’s cheap JBL Bluetooth speaker. Carson wanted to cry, but didn’t want to fuck up the look.
“...Do you want to…”, Leah asked Carson. He looked at her, goosebumps on his arms, and nodded. He knew what she was asking.
“...Y- yeah. Yes.”
And it always ends the same, I’m in your mouth again
I’ll ride your coattails if I can’t reach the rest of you
So the two of them kissed, and Carson wrapped his arms around Leah while still sitting down, Leah squatting a bit to make it all work. It was the first time he’d kissed anyone. No it wasn’t, but it was the first time he ever believed it. Leah put her hands in Carson’s hair, and he nudged his head up to try and get pet a little bit. Maybe he really was a creature, Leah thought.
I know it's you, 'cause I know how it feels when your hand's in my
hair
I peel my eyes open, everyone knows, and nobody cares
It was beautiful, and it was horrible, and it was the only thing that mattered on this dogshit fucking Earth where he had been cursed with the miracle of life.
I’m starving in your house
Shoveling fake-deep lines from that guy you like
I hate him so much that I wanna kill him, but I let it slide this
time
The two of them pulled away, and stared at each other. “You won’t end up like him”, Leah said. “That’s a promise.”
“...Okay”, Carson sighed.
“I have to run to the bathroom. I’ll be right back”, Leah said. “Don’t go anywhere!”
And all my life I've been waiting for my new limbs to come in
I open my mouth as wide as I can, hot in my face
Carson didn’t reply as Leah left the room to go pee, or at least Carson figured it was pee. Who knows, really. She- he looked back into the mirror at himself. The mirror worked this time, but he still felt off. Something was horribly wrong about him, and he knew it.
He didn’t bother trying to smile. Instead, he gave his head a subtle tilt to the left, and started crying, but just a little bit. Not enough to smudge the eyeliner. Not enough for anyone to notice. Stay in character.
“God, you look stupid.”
The stars shined.
You're biting chunks out of my face, say it's the same
For two of us, there's never enough in the kettle
And I grew a hundred teeth to treat you like the food I eat
I break the plate, you won't stay ahead of me forever
[…]