"Mitzvah Madness"

Now it is fifth period at Sayview High and I am sitting under the very maple tree that Seth and his weird friends inhabited yesterday, just waiting for the boy behind the mitzvah madness.


I take a bite of my sandwich and think about how much better looking I’d be as a man. I’ve got the Lisa Marie Presley Syndrome: a hot father’s masculine features bestowed on a girl. The heavy-set blue eyes of my father were full of mystery and softness, but on me they create a look of perpetual sleepiness; where dad’s square jaw spoke of strength, mine screams hermaphrodite. If Meeka Jones told Seth that I am the ugliest person in the world then I know it must be true. Sometimes, it takes the Vanessa Williams of beauty to set the record straight, to tell the homely people of the world to not even bother trying. Deep down, I already knew this. It’s why I dress like a boy. I’m telling the world I already know who I am. It’s always worse to pretend to shoot for stars everyone knows you can’t reach.


Seth emerges from the steel doors of the cafeteria, flanked by Naked Artist Boy and Animal. His eyes scan the courtyard. He is looking for me. I wave and Seth mumbles something to his weird entourage who depart with raised eyebrows and a thumb’s up. He sprints toward me and a bird flaps its wings inside my chest.


“Hey beautiful,” Seth beams. “May I join you?”


A thought leaps to the center of my brain: Did Seth McGee like me? Maybe that was why he got upset when I called him gay. It can’t help that his own father thinks he’s gay. A wave of pity washes over me: how frustrating it must be to go around having everyone—including your father—falsely assume your gay! But soon, pity is replaced by a ribbon of flattery that Seth, gorgeous Seth McGee wants me. So what if the feeling isn’t mutual—a crush does wonders for self-esteem!


“It’s a free country.” I scoot over, and consider his dark hair and eyes against the pale skin. His black Polo shirt shows lean biceps with just enough forearm hair to be manly. So he is small-boned and petite like my mother and Jack. But he is, in his own delicate way, hot. It is just my luck that the transference of hot male qualities onto a female turns sour but that hot female traits morph into David’s Michelangelo on males.


“So…” Seth removes a Tupperware container of salad dressing and stares at it carefully before shaking it. “Did your mom like the birthday card?” If his eyes were a bell they’d be dinging.


“What’s your deal?”


“Look, I was just trying to help. Your mom would have totally freaked if she knew the truth.” He drizzles his dressing over a salad of tiny carrots, coins of celery and chopped tomatoes.


“Why do you eat everything like that?”


“I have a fear of choking,” he says and cuts his lettuce into ever smaller pieces.


“When did you choke?”


“I never did. That’s why it’s a fear,” he explains as if I’m new to this planet.


“Maybe I got my mother a birthday card.” I throw a handful of chocolate Teddy Grahams in my mouth.


“Yeah, and maybe you could stop thinking about yourself for one second.” He rolls his dark eyes.


Clearly, Seth McGee was spending too much time with my brother. “Seth, what did you tell my mom? And why are you doing all of this?”


Seth sighs and puts down his plastic fork and knife. He looks at me and I feel the weight of something big about to happen. His hand reaches toward me and there is his thumb on the corner of my mouth. His touch feels awkward and the effort to not slap his hand away is painful. “You have something.” He licks his thumb and brings it back to my mouth. “I got it,” he smiles.


My brain quietly reminds me that Seth is certifiably gay. But my heart is too raw and vulnerable to listen; my heart is too thrilled that someone is giving me attention; that someone wants to be with me.