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A Burger With A Side Of Emotional Trauma

When I did reach the 7th grade square, I was relieved to see that no one, other than Rick himself was there.

  However, I was very panicked to see that when I walked by our cubbies we had up in class, I realized that his name was not Rick, but indeed Rich, and that my internal monologue was wrong. He also had a weird long surname that I could neither spell, pronounce nor remember.

  This gave me a weird sense of existential dread. How many others names am I getting wrong?

  I shook it off when I saw Rich Giraffesand or whatever his last name was, stand there in all his buff glory.

  Q: How was a 10-year-old jacked?
A: I don't remember. It was 7 years ago. Leave me alone.

  I approached Rich Gryffindor, and he eyed me up and down. In that moment, the fear that he was going to beat me up seemed to grow exponentially. However, the soft look in his eyes was a complete contrast from his otherwise intimidating exterior.

  Maybe Rich Gurblesnurr wasn't too bad.

  "Hey kid," he said, sympathy dripping in his voice.

  Being in the grade 7 square gave me a weird sense of power. Not too much power though. Let me demonstrate:

  Enough power to think: 'Fuck you, we're the same age. Don't call me kid,'

  However, not enough power to actually say it out loud. So that thought was thrown into the inferno along with all my other stupid thoughts, which I sadly realized ended up being over half of them.

  "So, about your moms, I think it's great!" He smiles this big toothy grin and he has braces, and his teeth are a bit bigger than average, and his whole tough guy person completely melts away.  A wave of relief washes over me. He's actually kinda cute.

  "Some people don't though," he says morosely, clenching his teeth awkwardly, "So because of your moms, people are going to assume you're gay. I'm super accepting if you are, hell, you might even not be, I don't know. Some people might not be as accepting though, so you have to keep it to yourself until you're older."

  This was a lot of information to take in at once. So instead of responding, I stood there like an idiot. I realized that I had to say something eventually, so in my mind, I crafted a complex sentence, proposing a million most likely unanswerable questions, that would certainly leave Rich Gangbang dumbfounded at how amazing I articulated my true emotions—

Well, that was the plan.

Instead I, a dumbass, stood there with his mouth gaping open and said: "Gay?"

I'm a fucking genius.

  "A guy likes guys or a girl likes a girl."

  "So people don't like it when you're gay?"

  "No."

  "What if I'm gay?" I ask. It never really crossed my mind, but I did find guys more attractive than I did girls. Like hey, maybe 10-year-old Rich Galactoid was not jacked, but my gay mind was just so overwhelmed by the little amount of muscle he did have that my hormones blew it out of proportion.

Hell, I even called Rich cute a moment ago, didn't I? I couldn't see myself dating him though. Maybe this whole gay thing is out of the window. I mean, yeah, sure, guys are cute, I don't particularly think girls are conventionally attractive, but I couldn't see myself dating a dude, so this might just be a weird phase. Or I'm just too young to be feeling romantic attraction. Who knows?

  Or maybe the girls in my class are just not specifically attractive, I'll never know. I feel like this is a problem for another day, but there's always that 75% chance that I will be gay, so I need to prepare for something like that.

  "If you're gay, you're going to get bullied, and people will push you and break your glasses, and they look expensive."

  "They were," I agreed solemnly, "Okay, what do I do then? I don't want people to harass me."

  "It's simple. Do what Chloe and I did," he announced, like the Richloe was a popular technique, used by ever homosexual out there, and how dare I not know what he's talking about.

  "I'm not following," I admit.

  "Chloe's gay as well, I think she called it lesbian or something, she likes girls."

  "Aren't you two dating though?"

  "Yeah, I'm her 'cover-up,' I don't love her, she doesn't love me, but we're good friends. I agreed to be her fake boyfriend so that people would think she's straight and she wouldn't get bullied."

  "So... you're telling me I need to befriend a girl... like... befriend a girl so good that she'd not only accept the fact that I'm gay, but also be willing to be my cover-up?" I asked unsurely. Like I said, my 10-year-old brain couldn't piece shit together. Luckily Rich Gatekeeper was patient with me.

  "Well, the idea that you're going to meet another girl like that is unlikely, so just ask a girl out. Any girl. Just make sure you'll know she'll say yes," Rich said.

  "But... that'd be mean. I don't actually love her, and if she says yes, that means she loves me, I'd just be hurting her feelings."

  "Hey dude, in the long run," he placed a hand on my shoulder, "Put yourself before others."

  That goes completely against what my moms taught me so I opened my mouth to argue, but he'd already walked off.

  "I have to get back to the 4th grade square, seeya 'round, kid," he spins around to salute me, and runs off. I scowl, also slowly making my way to our designated square before I got in trouble.

  A girl in our class that I could date? Uh...

  I went through all the girls in our class mentally.

  Chloe? No. She likes girls.

  Brooke? Brooke was very much out of my league. A lot of the boys in my class like her. She would not say yes if I asked her.

  Kimberly? Same as Brooke.

  Steph? She's really scary and dating her meant I'd have to deal with associating with her, and I feel like that would ultimately be the cause of my impending doom.

  And like that, I went through all the girls in my class, and none of them really seemed to stick. I was sitting on a bench, thinking of whether or not I missed someone.

  And then I remember.

  There's a girl that sits behind me, and I don't even really know what her name is.

  Girl that sits behind me:
  Cons:
•I have no idea what she looks like. She keeps her head down.
  •I don't know what her voice sounds like. I asked her for a pencil and she silently handed it to me, without even slightly turning her head upwards.
  •I don't know her fucking name. 10-year-old me was a huge dumbass.

  Pros:
  •Dating her would not come with any bad stigma, I don't think anyone else knows what her name is ether, anyway.
  •All I've seen so far is her hair, and it looks really fluffy.
  •She was colouring a picture of Luigi yesterday.
  •She's shy, and if I asked her out she would probably get super flustered and end up accidentally saying yes.

  So I put my plan into action.