Comfortable Madness First PDF 4-13-18

Names
Lunch came and we all sat in Queertopia with our halfcooked
burritos and our laughter, Miss Tris and Tad, Tayla and me.
We chattered on about the Dance Team girls and the stupid shit we
were learning in class. We told stories of the pain in the ass
teachers and made plans for the weekend. Everyone seemed to
ignore us, and we ignored them. But then things turned serious.
“You have a name yet?” Miss Tris asked.
“Adam,” I said.
Tayla raised an eyebrow.
“Adam?” she asked.
“Something wrong with Adam?”
“It’s so white bread.”
I nodded. Tayla wanted everything to stand out. She
wanted everyone around her to know the limits of people’s
kindness and the boundaries of what was okay and what was not.
“You have no idea,” I said. “The shit I went through just
because of what my mother called me.”
“I get it,” Miss Tris said.
Of all my friends, Miss Tris was the one who knew what it
was like to be on the outside looking in. Tayla and Tad didn’t have
to live here. If they kept their mouths shut, no one knew they were
different. People only had to look at me to know I didn’t fit. I was
fat and I was non-descript, and people assumed I had no selfcontrol
or self-respect and most of them assumed I was a dyke
because God knew that all dykes were fat and all fat girls were
dykes. Tayla looked punkish and fierce and people only had to talk
to her once to know that she stood in the twilight because she
wanted to.
Miss Tris, she started life with a dick and now she had tits.
Most of the time, she fit in just right with those of us who didn’t
care, but even then, born girls didn’t trust her because they didn’t
think she’d ever get over her masculine need to conquer and men