Javier's Chico

11.

Every single day, Javier awaited his lies being seen through. He was shocked he hadn't already been caught, his story about his 'wife' was so choppy and badly thought through, and even when he looked in the mirror, he didn't look like a man, not in his eyes.

But the longer this lie went on, the worse it would be should Dutch find out. How would he even tell someone? He was a freak, he was a fucking liar who still wanted to be protected even though he lied to the gang leader's face. He hid it before it never ended well, he told his family and that too ruined his life. But what was he supposed to do? He was miserable living life as someone he wasn't.

They had to know, there was no way Javier could lie to them longer than he had. Even if it meant he would be kicked out of the gang. But he just couldn't find the words to confess the truth. How was he supposed to tell anyone that he liked about so many important things, and about his entire past and Mateo's life?

There was only one other person Javier felt he could speak to about such secrets. Arthur sat alone at the edge of camp that night, drawing in his journal as always. Arthur never seemed the judgemental sort, perhaps he was even a little too laid back at times. Javier's stomach was in knots, felt like he was intruding as he approached, but Arthur turned around with a smile upon hearing the crunching of leaves under Javier's boots.

"Evenin'." He nodded in Javier's direction. "You gotta see the stuff your son's been drawin' in my journal." He sat beside Arthur and looked at all the crudely drawn doodles that were clearly done by a child. And there was a lot of them. Mateo had certainly found his interest in drawing, and Arthur liked teaching him. "Your boy's gonna be an artist."

"I'm sorry about him. He's very lonely sometimes."

"Nothin' to say sorry for. When he's bigger I'll teach him how to draw. Where is the kid?" Javier pointed over at his tent, where John was sitting, leaning over sleeping Mateo. He and Javier had become quite close, Arthur observed, he seemed at his happiest talking to John.

A peaceful silence fell on the two, but Arthur was good at picking up on how Javier was feeling, he learnt it pretty well over the last few months. He was fidgeting, biting his already worn down nails, knee bouncing. "Somethin' on your mind?"

He opened his mouth to talk but all that followed was a choked squeak. He bit his lip, fighting back any tears. He'd had an emotional rollercoaster in the last few weeks and if Arthur mocked him now, just like everyone else did, he would lose it. "I lied, to everyone here.."

"You lied? About what?" Arthur put his journal next to him, scooting closer to Javier.

"I'm not a man, Arthur."

The only sound that followed was crickets, and his heart thumped so loud he swore he could hear it. He heard every little movement from every tree and it felt like time stopped as Arthur processed what he said. Arthur looked him up and down; what was he supposed to do? Comfort Javier?

He cleared his throat, unsure of what to say next. "So...you—you what? You got a woman's body? How's that work?" He said, with genuine curiosity in his tone. Perhaps it was a little forced to make Javier feel more calm, but it was a genuine sincerity nonetheless.

"Please don't tell Dutch about this...I haven't told anyone, I want to do that myself but...I'm scared," Javier looked with genuine sadness in his eyes. "John may think I am a freak."

"He wouldn't, I know John." Javier looked like he was about to cry. As much as Arthur hated hugs and he knew Javier did too, his heart swelled for the poor kid and he felt like he had no choice but to hug him. "You an' John been awfully close lately. He don't care about anythin' that doesn't affect him."