Man o' War by Cory McCarthy

Author:Cory McCarthy [McCarthy, Cory]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2022-05-30T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

~

The bus ride home was quiet, the team exhausted after our loss. I didn’t particularly have the energy for a sleepover. I didn’t have the energy for anything.

Getting screamed at in public will do that.

I sat in the back, the short seat, my seat. Everyone gave me distance. Indy had gone home with their mom, and not having them around after what happened was a kind of relief. I didn’t want them to know how far away I could go inside. And I really didn’t want to think about how Indy’s mom had seen all that. Well, everyone had. Coach took public shaming seriously.

Indy had looked so different when they went in the other direction, avoiding the bus and Coach . . . and me.

Catherine sat in the other back seat, reading her textbook in the dark. “I did the math. If you hadn’t blown that flip turn, we would have won,” she said after a solid half hour of silence.

Our first victory against Perris in living memory—blown by me.

“Are you trying to make me feel worse?”

Catherine snapped her book shut. “I won’t dignify that question with a platitude. I’m telling you because everyone acts like Perris always spanks us, but we only lost by a few points. We’re getting better. And also to explain why Coach was more of an asshole to you than usual.”

“She just hates me. It’s fine. I deserve it.” I paused. “Catherine, if Kerrig goes after Indy the way she goes after me, I’m not going to take it well.” Not even Joss could hold me back from losing it then.

“Indy can take care of themself. Do you know anything about the person you’re dating?”

“We’re not dating.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m mildly venomous, if you haven’t noticed.”

She snorted. “Why do you think we’re friends?” Catherine was my friend. I should’ve been able to say to her that my life and heart seemed to be swimming in different directions, and I felt ripped in half most days. “What did you get your Little for her first meet?”

I winced. “Shit. Forgot.”

“You forget a lot of things.”

“I do.” At this point I knew that forgetting things, losing reality, was part and parcel of gender dysphoria. I knew this, and yet I couldn’t say it. “Feels like everyone hates me.”

“Maybe you just hate you.” Catherine exhaled. “Still. Kerrig is after you more than the rest of us.” Her admission surprised me. “It’s like we all bother her a lot, but you? You make her see red like a cartoon villain. I’m thinking she might be a homophobe.”

“Odds are good.” Another one of those queer homophobes that were so prevalent around here. Once I’d started seeing them, I couldn’t stop finding evidence of their identity rot. It felt like the muck at the bottom of my neighborhood lake: distractingly squishy between your toes while it silently stained your most sensitive skin an oily green. “Helps to know it’s not in my head.”

Some other dimension of me added, Hey, Catherine, I was born in captivity, and this tank is killing me.

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