A/N I've never been more nervous about a story before.
If you didn't already know, I will be graduating high school in a month (what even). As a final project, my English teacher urged us to write him anything we wanted, and this was the end product.
So no, this is not Scomiche, but it does have headcanon genderfluid!Mitch in it (I couldn't resist not having him in something so close to my heart).
*deep breath* Enjoy!
Nerves coursed through my body as I sat in the driver's seat of my mom's car, hunched behind the steering wheel. I could see the faded paint of the sign next to the door peeling off, the 'community center' almost indistinguishable.
Why did I agree to this again? The guidance counsellor said talking to a bunch of 'experienced' strangers would help me figure things out, but what if they couldn't? What if I left this meeting even more confused than when I walked in?
12:55
I had five minutes to decide if I was going to be brave enough to walk through those doors or sit there and cower for an hour, so at least when I got home I could pretend that I actually went.
After a quick mental debate, I decided if I didn't do this now, I would regret it forever. I pulled down the rear view mirror to inspect my appearance, and I was immediately disgusted at how careless I looked.
My hair was still securely tucked into the beanie I had thrown on this morning, thank god, but little beats of sweat had formed at my hairline, threatening to drip down at any minute. I had decided to forego wearing any makeup today, which was obviously a mistake since a large zit practically took up my entire chin. On top of all this mess, the thick black straps of my sports bra protruded through my thin t-shirt. Oh well, it was the only tool I had to bind with this morning, and I couldn't stand the idea of the bits of fat on my chest and what they represent. Not today.
Upon entering, I immediately spotted a low table near the front door, supporting a stack of name tag stickers and a sign reading "Please write your name and preferred pronouns, thank you."
I hesitantly picked up the marker and wrote on one of the labels: "Eve, she/her (?)"
I stuck the sticker to my t-shirt and turned to face the rest of the room. There were maybe seven or eight people having casual conversations while sipping water from paper cups. They all looked my age, give or take a few years.
"Hi!" I heard someone say enthusiastically from over my shoulder. They walked over to stand in front of me, and I was immediately drawn to the label written in lime green sharpie.
Mitch, he/him
"Are you new here?" he asked, tucking a strand of his long hair behind his ear. "I've never seen you around..." he squinted at my chest, leaning down to have a closer look. I was about to ask him to stop when he continued his sentence as if the awkward encounter hadn't happened. "I haven't seen you around, Eve. Sorry about that, by the way. Your handwriting is kind of small and I'm not wearing my glasses like I'm supposed to."
"It's okay, I don't mind." I lied through my gritted teeth.
"Well, you should pull up a chair. Meghan is going to start the meeting any second now."
I followed his lead and took one of the blue plastic chairs from a stack in the corner of the room. Everyone else had already taken a seat in the circle, so I squished my chair into the tight space two seats down from Mitch.
"Hi everyone!" said the middle-aged woman next to me. I could barely read her name tag, but, guessing by her age, she was Meghan. "It's good to see everyone here today! I see a new face in the group too."
