Trouble is a Friend of Mine

I found myself standing beside the urinals.

‘Hey, Princeton, I was just going to go looking for you,’ Digby said.

‘What the hell?’ I said.

A boy at a urinal turned and also yelled, ‘What the hell?’ and then what-the-something-else when he realized he’d peed on his own shoes. Some boys coming in saw me and backed out of the bathroom.

One kid said, ‘Oh, man, I heard she was a guy.’

‘You realize that’s going to be the new rumor about me now, right?’ I said.

‘I like it. I might help spread that myself. Big-city transgender teen moves to small town to establish new identity, start new life. Calls herself Zoe,’ Digby said. ‘That TV movie writes itself. You’ll be famous. All the girls will finally want to be your friend.’

‘Until they ask to see it and I’m suddenly some big fraud.’

‘Stuff a sock down your pants and don’t date until college. Who’s going to know?’

‘As always, excellent advice. So what am I doing in here? This place reeks.’

‘I remembered where I’ve seen that banana logo before.’

‘You couldn’t come out of the bathroom and tell me that instead of dragging me in here?’

‘No, look.’ Digby took me to a stall where, on the wall, someone had crudely drawn the skateboarding banana.

‘Okay, so … now you want to find who drew this?’

Digby pointed at writing under the drawing. ‘F2 1600.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘I don’t know, but look. The paint underneath … it’s streaky. Like this spot’s been wiped.’ Digby stuck his nose against the stall wall and sniffed.

‘That’s disgusting.’

‘Turpentine. This writing under the banana changes. I bet these are, like, instructions and they change all the time.’

‘Time. Like, sixteen hundred … military style? Four p.m.?’

‘So F2 is … the place? Obviously the place. Drug dealer telling customers the place and time. But what does F2 mean?’

We stood there in silence. The halls had gone silent too.

‘Great. Class started. I’m late. Again. And I still haven’t peed.’

I went into a stall and tried to pee. Seconds passed. Then a minute.

‘Hey, Digby, turn on a tap. I can’t go.’

‘Would you feel better if I peed too?’

‘Just do it, please. It’s starting to hurt –’

‘Hey, let me see your book.’

Digby reached over the stall door, took my bag off the hook, and rummaged through it. My lip gloss rolled across the floor. Of the boys’ bathroom. No way was I putting that on my lips again.

‘Just tell me which book you need, I’ll get it for you,’ I said.

‘The Student Handbook. I know you carry yours around, Princeton.’

The handbook had the school rules and regulations, pictures of the teachers, and the class schedules and room assignments. It was totally dorky, but I carried it around because I liked the homework planner in the back.

‘The one with the blue cover. Would you not throw my stuff on the floor, please?’

I finally peed and came out of the stall. Digby was looking at the campus map in the handbook.

‘F2’s a storage room across from the labs,’ he said. ‘That’s got to be it. They’ll be there at four. We should go.’

‘Because our last drug deal wasn’t stupid enough.’

‘What are you talking about? That went well.’

‘Don’t you think we’re going to eventually run out of luck? Plus, we go to school here. Whoever’s selling will probably know we were the ones who broke into Schell’s office,’ I said.

‘Hm … you’re right. We can’t go.’

‘No. We can’t.’

Digby washed his hands, a vague expression on his face.

‘Hello?’ I said.

‘Hey,’ he said.

‘What?’

‘I’m thinking.’ He balled up his paper towel.

‘So, you agree? We can’t go.’

‘Yeah. No. We can’t go.’

He three-pointed the paper towel and said, ‘Um, okay … see you at four.’ He walked out before I could remind him again that we couldn’t go.





EIGHTEEN


I had after-school plans to group chat with friends from back home. I’d flaked on them the last few times without giving a reason and they thought I was just blowing them off. Truth was, I’d gotten caught up doing Digby stuff, which I couldn’t explain to them because, frankly, I didn’t know how to.

They used to get pissed when I bailed. I’d get angry messages and, like, a turd icon in my inbox. But the last time, they were just ‘whatever’ when I skipped. My former closest friend, Cecily, never brought it up, but she had definitely been treating me differently. She’d chat but be really distant, then she’d include me when she sent group updates like, ‘Sex and the City+pizza=Woohoo!’ to remind me I was missing out. Honestly, freezing me out for real would be less hurtful.

So, I was actually glad when I got Digby’s message summoning me as I was packing up after school.