Covert InsultsWe sat in the classroom together, the three of us. A butch lesbian who insists on...

Covert Insults

We sat in the classroom together, the three of us. A butch lesbian who insists on simply being called “Sebastian,” the sporty cheer coach who serves as my classroom aide, and me.


My assignment ends tomorrow and we were discussing what life would be like with the regular teacher.


“The other teachers tell me she’s got her good days and her bad days,” Coach Erica whispered.


“Yes, she’s got a very strong personality,” Sebastian answered back. “We clash,” she smiled. “I most likely won’t be in here,” she added.


I like Sebastian. A lot. I’ve been attracted to her since I first laid eyes on her. She’s got short spiky blonde hair, a heavyset figure with a badonkadonk to match, black nerdy glasses and crowns with a small gap between her them. Her confidence is what attracts me. She tells great stories and her aura is impressive.


“I’ve got a strong personality,” she continued. “And since I’ve got a strong personality and so does she–”


“You don’t mesh well together?” I asked.


“There’ll be conflict.” She finished.


“You’ve got a strong personality, but it isn’t negative,” Coach remarked.


“ I tell it like it is, and I’ve got no filter. But I won’t speak up about things that aren’t my business. For example,” Here, she turned to face me. “I won’t tell you that I don’t like your hair, that looks stupid. That isn’t something I have to worry about. I don’t wear it. I mean, maybe if you were my partner, I’d say something, because I’d have to stand next to you. I also won’t make any comments about your clothes. That’s not something I need to say to you. I’ll talk about that with my partner… We’ll say something like, "She doesn’t have friends.” Especially the big girls that wear see through tops…“ Here she made a mischievous smile. "We just say, oh, she must not have friends or she wouldn’t walk out looking crazy like that. But it really isn’t my business to say something like that to you unless I’m laying next to you.”


I nodded intently and then suddenly one of our students asked for help and she moved over to assist him. That’s how the conversation was closed.


I thought about this. I looked down at the outfit that I was not excited about wearing today… This red juvenile sweater that used to belong to Jen, this army jacket that one of my friend zoned guys never came back for, these faded denim jeans my ex’s mom gave me cause they were too small to fit her daughter, these Nike Air Maxes that are too dusty to be dismissed for being all grey, and my natural, fresh-outta-the-shower hair with overgrown bangs formed into cowlicks.

I don’t have friends.

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