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Illi McMillin wanted to scream.
She dragged her feet, causing traffic in the hallways as she slowed herself down just enough to barely make it to Gym in time. Her hand tightened around her swim bag, which was bumping into her leg as she closed her eyes, nearly bumping into about three other students.
An entire month of carrying this dumb bag, of having to walk into that locker room and change into swim shorts and nothing else. An entire month of putting the only feminine thing about her, her shoulder length shaggy black hair, in a swim cap, taking any possible ability to appear girlish away, leaving her looking like exactly what she was born. An entire month of having to watch from the shallow end, lingering awkwardly around the girls like she thinks she's one of them, far enough away to make them feel safe enough to talk shit about her. An entire month of listening to the guys in the locker room slap each other's ass and take the towels wrapped around others waists, a month of staring forward at the unbearably orange lockers and pretending that she wasn't about to have the most uncomfortable hour of her life. A month of having to reapply eyeliner in her third period and deal with the stares and whispered insults and slurs that had mostly become her life.
Curse these stupid uniforms. Curse this stupid dress code, not letting her bring a shirt of her own to wear with her swim shorts. Curse this stupid fucking school and its stupid fucking swim unit. (Of course, she could always just skip class, but she was about three skips away from getting a detention which would go on her permanent record, and she was too close to getting a week long suspension she knew her parents wouldn't be happy with. So) Illi sighed, opened her eyes and walked the 10 steps to stand outside the hallway leading to the entrance to the pool locker rooms.
Illi was hyperaware of everything on her body. Too aware of how flat her chest was, of how her hair seemed to prick the back of her neck, of how tight her collar felt, of how horrible the shitty texture of the uniform mandated pants on her legs are. She was chewing her lip, digging her bitten nails into her palms, motionless.
“Illi!” A voice broke through the dread in her mind, and she barely had to turn to know who it was. “Just checking ‘cause Mikey asked, are we still doing DND Saturday?” Ray asked, sprinting to her side, swim bag swinging on his arm. Illi nodded absentmindedly, not really hearing his words. “You alright?” Ray stepped slightly in front of her, into the direct walkway of anybody looking to get into the hallway, putting a hand on her arm in an attempt to get a better look at her face.
Illi shrugged, opening her mouth and then closing it again. Cursing herself for looking so dumb, she forced out speech. “Fine.” She said, quieter than she would've liked. She shook her head in an attempt to clear her mind, now focused on the slightly unpleasant feeling of Ray’s hand on her arm.
Really, he was about the only reason second period had been bearable at all this year. Instead of having to suffer alone through Gym like past years, she finally had a friend she could stand and do nothing with. Mostly, the two just took advantage of the hour to talk about a whole lot of nothing. Movies, other classes, sharing fun facts and dumb trivia, talking about possible DND campaign ideas and new comics out, making weekend plans or complaining about the teachers or uniforms, she’d even been able to talk to him about things like dysphoria on bad days. They'd grown quite close over the course of the year (not that they weren't before) but it was nice to have someone to talk to, even if it was an argument for 10 straight minutes about if Bowser was actually a competent threat or not (He’s not. He keeps getting foiled constantly by two plumbers, no matter how many times he comes back he still loses every time, he's not a competent villain).
Ray was shoved to the side, taking Illi with him as someone pushed past the two. They slammed into the wall, Ray harder than Illi, but she still felt it, mostly in her shoulder. Ray got his entire arm and hand hit with pain, and he winced. “What’s his issue?” Ray mumbled, glaring.
“Maybe don't stand in the walkway, dumbass.” Illi teased, a smile wavering on her face for a second as she teased playfully.
“Fuck you too.” Ray took his free hand off of Illi’s shoulder and brushed the hair out of his eyes, shaking it quickly in an attempt to get rid of the pain from having Illi slammed on top of it.
“Careful, swearing is against school policy.” Illi smiled, everything feeling lighter for a second.
“Whatever, you started it.”
The bell rang, and the two of them made their way to their Gym teacher standing 20 feet down the hallway outside the locker room doors, taking the attendance of the last couple people heading in.
“Gerard.” Illi felt the familiar guilty lurch in her stomach as she said it. The student teacher nodded as she marked down Illi as present, motioning her into the Men’s dressing room. Illi closed her eyes for a second, hating every second of pushing the door handle down and swinging open the door, the noise now unmuffled and blasting her like one of their bands guitar soundchecks onto her ears.
Change and get out, that was the objective here. It was loud, maybe she should've gotten here early so she didn't have to deal with the slams of lockers, the yelling of the twentyish guys inside. But if she got here sooner, she would've had to stand shirtless sooner. The momentary peace from seeing Ray was gone, replaced with the same discomfort from her walk here.
She dropped her bag on the floor, balling her fist as she found her locker. She loosened her tie and pulled it over her head, which didn’t help stop the tight feeling in her throat. Her jacket followed, both getting dropped onto her bag. A locker six lockers down slammed and she winced slightly, hands shaking as she quickly spun in her combination and pulled down on her combination lock. She wrestled with the lock for a second, trying her best to get it out of the hole on the locker with fumbling hands and letting it drop on top of her bag. She wasn't really thinking, thoughts and movement slow. She took off her shirt quickly, not even bothering to unbutton the bottom of it before balling it up and holding it in both her hands, clutching the fabric like a lifeline. God, this felt horrible. Having her chest exposed like this, and now she has to go out and-
The room seems too bright, everything too loud. Illi’s vision distorted as the lockers in front of her become a huge orange blur. Her brain doesn't seem to be working, what was she doing? Why is she standing with… what's in her hand? She can hear the lights buzz, even over the idiots throwing towels and deodorant and who knows what at each other. Every slam of the lockers, every bang of something hitting the floor, every time the door opens and closes it leaves an echo, which all combines together in a noisy symphony of pure overwhelming sound.
She's hyperventilating now, her balled up shirt over her chest like she's trying to cover it back up, fix it. She's wrong, her body is wrong, everything is wrong. Slowly, she sank to her knees, unzipping her swim bag with shaking hands. What was she looking for? She closed her eyes and brought the shirt to cover her mouth, the stiff fabric covering her face entirely.
Illi could feel the tears begin to prick in her eyes, and she tried her best to inhale raggedly. For sure people were staring, but whatever. She was already a freak to these people, why not make it worse? She bit her lip, taking her hands away from her face, still hyperaware of the amount of skin showing. The feeling of her bare arm brushing against her exposed chest made her close her eyes and fall forward slightly, hands still rummaging through the bag blindly.
“Illi.” A voice whispered in her ear, and she went still, tempted to throw a punch before the voice finally processed for her. Not ‘Gerard’, Illi.
“Ray.” She whispered back after a pause, still trying to not break down, opening her eyes and getting hit with a bright white light making her dizzy despite being currently sitting.
“You doing okay?” Ray was crouched down, slightly taller than Illi, but he fell back to sit on the lockers facing her, directly next to Illi’s bag. He was already changed, and had clearly come to wait next to her so he didn't have to walk out alone.
IllI made a quiet “mhm” noise as she inhaled sharply, the urge to start breaking down completely getting worse. “Can you just-” She made a choked noise and put her head down. “Find my swim- for me.” She asked quietly, pushing her hands against her eyes in an attempt to stop any tears from falling down her face. Her vision was already too blurry for her liking. Ray nodded, starting to go through her bag and pulling out the swim cap, goggles and swim shorts. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” She whispered quietly, the feeling of having no shirt and trapped in these stupid pants too much for her mind right now. While the noise might have decreased as the last few people left the room, it didn't stop the intense discomfort that invaded every part of her body, unbearable screaming that she was wrong, she isn't supposed to be like this.
Ray set down the items in a pile, getting up and quietly whispering “Hold on for me.” before checking the isles of lockers for anybody else in the locker room. By the time he made his way back to Illi she was hyperventilating again, very close to breaking completely down. “There's nobody else in here.” Ray said quietly, reaching a hand out to softly touch her back. Illi pressed her hands to her face again, choking as she started to sob. Ray just sat down next to her, wrapping an arm around her. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't focus on anything except how wrong everything about her felt. It consumed her, it wouldn't leave. No matter what she tries, she will always remain him in everybody’s mind.
“Illi.” Ray said again, and she turned her head to the side, nodding, still trying to calm her sharp and raggedy breathing. “Breathe.” He reminded.
She couldn't help but laugh a little at that. “What do you think I'm trying to do?” She gasped, smiling despite herself. The feeling of Ray's arm on her back didn't feel like poison anymore, and she relaxed slightly, keeping her eyes closed as she followed the pattern drilled into her by health class. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. It took a minute, but she opened her eyes, only to squint them shut again at the bright orange lockers in front of her.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Ray asked quietly.
Illi shrugged. “I don't like the swim unit.”
“Its really not that bad, I mean we can mostly just stay in the shallow end.” Ray offered, and Illi shrugged off his arm, now pressing her hands into her legs like the feeling of exerting pressure would help or something.
“No, it was dysphoria again.” She confessed. “I don’t-” She stumbled over her words for a second. “I do not want to have to go ‘swim’” She brought her hands up to air quotes and the two laughed quietly. Neither knew how to swim, which made this unit particularly hellish. “Especially without a shirt.” She said hurriedly.
“Stupid question,” Ray put his hands up in surrender as an attempt to stop any possible quips coming his way. “You haven't tried to ask about accommodations?”
“I have. It’s a dress code violation.” She sighed, wiping her face again, breathing sharply.
“Wear one anyways.”
“It’s fine,” she sighed. Her hands shook slightly as she attempted to grab the bundle of swimwear from Ray’s hands. He pulled it closer to himself and set it down behind him.
“I’ll go tell them you threw up or something.” Ray crouched and stood up. “That’ll get us out of today. Put your shirt back on.”
Illi nodded, looking down at her bag, clothes strewn everywhere. She found her white shirt pretty easily and threw it on. The shirt wasn't fully buttoned, which would get her stopped in the hallway if she was seen out of uniform, but just maybe the “getting sick” excuse would be enough to get her some leniency. Her mind was still slightly muddled, but she could focus enough to breathe carefully again and start forcing the pieces of her uniform into her swim bag.
Ray still wasn't back by the time everything was shoved into her bag, so Illi let herself lay back, her head and shoulders making contact with the locker behind her and slowly sliding her onto the absolutely disgusting locker room floor. Despite the fact the floor was cold, the lights were now directly in her eyes, and there was a lingering smell of sweat almost masked by the mix of colognes all around the locker room, it was almost nice to lay down in silence. She closed her eyes again and focused specifically on steadying herself.
“I got us a pass.” Ray’s voice was heard above her, and she sat up, running a hand through her hair, shaking whatever crumbs or leaves that could have been on the floor out of her hair. Ray decided to skip questioning Illi on why she was laying on the floor (A quite common thing for her to do when they were over at somebody's house, but at school very odd behavior) and instead grab her bag for her as Illi adjusted to standing.
She breathed a sigh of relief as the two of them stepped outside the locker room. The suffocation of not only the stuffy room but of what it meant was a huge reason for her stress, and now that she knew she wouldn't have to step in there again until they found some way of dealing with the issues at hand.
“You should've changed before you left.” Illi grabbed her bag from Ray's hand as he shrugged, leading her to the Nurse despite the two being side by side.
“It’s too late now.” He tried to act unbothered, but Illi could tell he was thinking about turning around.
“Do you want my jacket?” She offered, already opening her bag as the two walked. The two were the same shirt size, which made it easy to share clothes. She riffled through her bag and pulled out the navy blue blazer, handing it to Ray and allowing him
It was only now as she closed her bag again she looked down at her hands and found mascara smudged on her hands. “Fuck, I ruined my makeup.” She sighed.
The two almost started to laugh. They looked ridiculous, and they knew it.
“You're a girl to me, if that helps.” Ray said abruptly, buttoning the final button on the blazer.
Illi nodded. “It does.” It did help, knowing people, even a few, saw her for who she was.
They were more than halfway to the Nurse’s office, which was just outside the commons. “Do you have an outfit for DND yet?” Ray asked.
Illi smiled. “I was just going to wear my The Cure shirt and my skirt with the fold-y things.”
“The one that kinda looks like the middle thing in an accordion?” Ray brushed the hair out of his face again.
Illi nodded. “Yeah. It's called a Knife Pleat skirt apparently.”
“Sick.”