[Week 0.7]

Luna took a deep breath before exiting the elevator. The layout of the dorm still felt unfamiliar, very different from the Northside engineering dorm she’d spent her first year in. One year into transition still wasn’t all that much, but this year she was going to be more social and that meant living on the other side of campus.

So far, living with people who hadn’t known her during the awkward first few months of hormones likewise resulted in considerably better treatment. Passing was still something that only seemed to happen situationally, and reactions to her ran all the way from obvious disgust and dirty jokes (fortunately rare) to uncomfortable avoidance (unfortunately common) to overly exuberant support (unfortunately not rare).

If she got called brave one more time, she’d melt into a puddle and flee to the nearest gutter. 

She snuck past the common room. She’d had a long day, and didn’t need to spend more time performing for people who had little in common with her.

On average, people were, of course, outwardly accepting. This wasn’t the Midwest, after all. But the subtle things? Being weird and different and often still awkward–it wasn’t easy.

Two doors from safety Leo’s door sat open, but his headphones were on and he didn’t look up as she walked by. Tina, her roommate, was still at her biology lecture, so for at least for the next hour her dorm room would be empty. 

Luna’s door opened with a groan, and the usual pile of cafeteria dishes greeted her from Tina’s desk. Tina was nice, didn’t misgender her, and helped her find a better matching foundation ahead of rush week last weekend, so Luna didn’t mind that she wasn’t the cleanest roommate. People came with their own ups and downs, and she’d gladly trade more kindness for needing some help keeping things tidy.

It helped that their shared space wasn’t exactly big, and keeping it clean wasn’t that hard. It was just two beds on opposite sides, tiny desks with windows in between, with shelving to offer just the tiniest bit of separation. Next to the door, two wardrobes. 

Luna glanced around their room. She’d decorated her side with a pride flag, an old SOPHIE poster, and a piece of fan art from Kushiel’s Dart. Tina had put up some K-pop bands Luna wasn’t familiar with, and otherwise hadn’t done much yet.

It was definitely a little messy today, so Luna decided to do a cleaning pass on the whole place. She still carried last week’s gratitude, and the act of service was a pleasant distraction from waiting for rush week results.

She started with her own desk. It was covered in sticky notes detailing her feelings on different sororities. She’d written them in a moment of optimism at the start of the week, when she thought she might actually have to choose which one she preferred. They wouldn’t make a difference now. The lists of names and details she’d tried to memorize to make a better impression wouldn’t matter anymore, either. 

She stared at the note at the top of the pile. Tanya. Vice President of Kappa Kappa. She’d actually managed to talk to her on one of the first few rush days. It wasn’t a deep conversation–she’d kept things going, but the other girl was obviously uninterested from the start.

There was a blue sticky note representing Tamara, the recruitment chair of Lambda Gamma Kappa. That conversation had lasted longer–the girl at least made eye contact–but the outcome had been the same. She hadn’t received an invite from them either.

Off to the left–Cassandra, the president of Alpha Beta Kappa. Not a sorority she’d even dream of having a chance with. She’d been nice at the mixer, at least.

It was a depressing picture. She wasn’t tiny, pretty, or cis. And over and over again in the last week it had been clear that that was exactly what these sororities were looking for.

There was one almost-exception: a hastily scribbled note with nothing but “Kacie from Delta Sigma”–not a sorority she’d really found much about online.

They’d met at the midweek mixer, when Luna had sought a moment of quiet by cleaning some confetti. It was a moment of embarrassment–she was a guest, supposed to be charming the sorority members, and instead she was cleaning like some kind of maid. Hiding from the overwhelming number of people, the repeated silent rejections, the constant reminder that she wasn’t a real girl.

She’d expected some kind of comment. Instead, the girl had silently cleaned with her, then disappeared off somewhere when they were done.

They hadn’t said a word the whole time, and somehow that made it perfect.

The shared silent labor had helped her recover, and she’d found the spoons to socialize for the rest of the event–to bang herself a few more times against the barriers put up by her birth gender.

She wished she could find the girl again, make a better impression. Instead, she had this sticky note. And, somehow, when she opened her purse the next day, an invitation to the Thursday Delta Sigma event. She couldn’t imagine it being for any reason besides pity.  

Luna went anyway.

The event itself had been a bunch of strange team-building exercises. They were fun, especially since the structured nature meant she couldn’t be excluded. The whole day was a little unusual. Some sisters wore black wrist bracers and mostly ran the show, while a few with black chokers and animal masks–including someone she eventually recognized as Kacie, actually–were mostly fetching things and assisting the rest. It felt like something out of a strange dream.

But the way they stood perfectly still when they weren’t moving was absolutely breathtaking.

Luna broke out of her reminiscing to stare at the notes again. They could stay. She’d clean them up later. She threw out the old scratch paper Tina had dropped on the floor. Then she grabbed the plates from Tina’s desk and headed to the cafeteria. 

On the way, she ran into James, a fellow sophomore she’d met in Mentors in Stem last year. He was also studying computer science, and he lived a floor below her, which was unfortunate since Mentors in Steam was an organization Luna was currently trying to gracefully ghost.

“Hey Luna!” he near shouted when he saw her, “did you get the notes from the Systems lecture today?”

Luna gave him a sideways glance, but tried to keep walking. “You know I don’t miss lectures.” 

“Right, right,” he continued, catching up to her side. “Mind bringing them to the Mentors meeting tonight?”

Luna flinched. Apparently skipping the mandatory first meeting of the semester hadn’t been enough of a message.

She sighed. “James… You know I meant it when I said Mentors was my favorite club I joined last year. You’re all super kind, and you even handled my transition well.”

“But?” James asked.

She breathed. “But it’s just…”

How do you tell people something just doesn’t click about hanging out with them?

“I’m trying to keep exploring, okay?” Luna tried.

It was as honest an answer as she could give. In truth Mentors in Engineering was the only club she’d felt safe in so far. Women in Tech had made it very clear that she had a guest pass towards womanhood at best, and while the Undergraduate Engineering Association had welcomed her, one of the women officers had reposted something incredibly TERF-y on her Twitter just last week. 

“I–“ it was too much to explain. How could she explain that their acceptance wasn’t enough? That not posting anti-trans dog whistles on Twitter didn’t make them the place she wanted to spend the next four years?

Mentors in Engineering, with their focus on educating children, had been a godsend. When she’d joined, she was still struggling with basics like simple makeup, and they’d welcome her with open arms.

But she wanted more than acceptance. She wanted to be understood. And she’d spend the rest of her life looking if that’s what it took. Which is how she ended up making a Hail Mary bid to join a sorority in her sophomore year–not that her bid looked very promising right now.

James, for his part, let his disappointment show on his face.

He gave her a pained grimace. “That’s sucks to hear, you were really great with the kids.” 

“I know, I liked the kids a lot,” Luna said.

His shoulders went slack and his face sunk. “Fuck, we were counting on you to be one of the group leaders, too.”

Luna couldn’t bear seeing him hurting. Or the idea that she was letting people down.

“I’m sorry, James…” She looked away. “I guess I could come by tonight? See if I can make the time?”

James immediately brightened up. “We’d be so grateful.”

He turned to the elevator door, a soft ding announcing its arrival. “You’re going to do such a great job this year”

Luna watched him get into the elevator, kicked herself. She always did this. She’d need to text him and cancel–or something. She couldn’t let herself get sucked in.

But that was a concern for later. For now, she could worry about something simple, like dropping off the dirty dishes. She turned away from the elevator and continued to the cafeteria.

Big public spaces still spooked her a little. She drew less attention now than last year, but the fear lingered. Fortunately the dish drop was near the entrance, and she could probably make a quick escape back to her room.

She wasn’t quite so lucky.

“Excuse me, sir!” someone yelled behind her. Gut instinct screamed, but she took two more steps, hoping she was wrong, hoping– “excuse me sir! You dropped your wallet!”

She snuck a hand to her–shoot why were girl pockets always so small?

She took a deep breath, turned, focused on finding the right resonance in her voice, then spoke up. “It’s mine, I think.”

At least the undergraduate had the decency to look embarrassed. “Ahh, ehh, sorry ma’am.”

He handed the wallet back to her, and Luna completed her errand as fast as she could. 

She should feel happy, that at least her effort voice training had paid off, that seeing her front had made it clear “no, this is a girl, or at least someone trying to be one.” But it hurt, like someone accidentally punching a shoulder that had been broken and swollen and unable to heal for her entire childhood. A bruise over her heart, a strain on her soul. A knife that twisted in her gut with every “he” “sir” “mr.”

And that hurt followed her all the way back to her dorm. It had been easier, last year. Of course people would look at her and see a man. But the more progress she made, the more invalidating the setbacks. At this point, after a year of hormones and hundreds if not thousands of hours of effort, every misgendering seemed to scream “It doesn’t matter what you do, you’ll never be a real girl.”

She knew she should text James, but she really didn’t want to deal with other humans now. She decided she’d do some homework first. 

Almost an hour later, Tina texted her, saying she’d spend the evening with some boy and wouldn’t be home until late. She should really text James. But she didn’t know what to say. She could spend some time working on her dream journal.

She moved from her desk to her bed and began her lucid dreaming routine.

Her escape from the brutality of growing up in the wrong body.

She let herself fall asleep then drifted through dream worlds. Sometimes she’d create or explore particular places. Today she just let herself relax, let her subconscious shape the places and just sat in them.

She ended up in an old favorite. A mountain vista on an alien world with a view of an inhuman metropolis. A place where she could observe and not be observed. She sat her dream-self against a tree and just drifted with the view.

When she woke up it was almost 6, and she realized she’d need to head out soon if she’d wanted to make the meeting. She should text James, but it would be rude to cancel now. Her chest tightened up, her throat clamped shut, she felt trapped. She didn’t want to be rude, and it was just one meeting? 

She grabbed her jacket, checked her makeup, and walked to the engineering quadrant.

The meeting room was under the engineering library; a dark place without windows. James was already there, as well as a bunch of people whose names Luna still couldn’t remember.

One of them approached her–they’d been assigned to the same school last year. Luna was glad she at least recognized them. This might definitely become awkward.

“Hi Luna!” the near-stranger said.

“Hi!” She forced herself to keep eye contact.

“Glad to see you with us again. You’re a huge help.”

Luna forced a friendly smile. “Yeah… glad to be here!” 

Luckily, the meeting was starting and she didn’t have to fake her way through anymore social interactions.

The worst moment came halfway through the meeting. This year’s president, a blonde guy named Tim or Tom or something else with a T, made an announcement. 

“So we’ve actually got one problem to solve for this year,” he began, “we have enough group leaders, but Sarah, our treasurer, can’t do the club anymore. She ran uncontested, and the year’s already starting, so instead of the usual leadership election, we’re going to take nominations. Raise your hand if you’ve got someone, and no nominating yourself.”

No one raised their hand at first. Luna didn’t have anyone to nominate, so at least she wouldn’t have to raise her hand in public. 

Then James chimed in. “I think Luna would make a great treasurer.”

Luna’s adrenaline spiked. Everyone looked at her. She needed to think of something to say. “Uhhh, ahhh, I’m a little busy this year? And I don’t think I could do a very good job. I’m sure there’s someone better?”

President T– gave her a beseeching look. “You did great work last year, and we could really use the help. You’re definitely qualified. We’d all be really grateful.”

Luna froze. Too many people. They needed her. They’d be so disappointed if she let them down.

Perhaps if she’d had something else to do she would have dredged up the last bit of will power and pushed back. But she didn’t. This week had been a disaster. Her calendar was going to be empty.

“Sure, I guess,” she conceded.

Not how she had planned for this to go. But when all of the the sororities rejected her at least she’d have Mentors in STEM.

She spent the rest of the meeting trying to wrap her head around what she just agreed to. When it was over, a bunch of people thanked her. She’d have to find some way to learn their names now.

The walk back was uneventful, but when she opened her door she immediately felt something off. It looked undisturbed at first glance, but when she walked back to her desk she saw it: The sticky notes had been neatly stacked at the top of her desk. Except for the ones about Delta Sigma, which were placed in a neat row across the center. Someone had drawn a smiley on the last one.

In the space cleared up by the unasked-for ‘organizing’, they’d placed a plain white envelope.

A wave of adrenaline ran through Luna’s body. The sense of violation warred with awe at the audacity, but all of that was crushed by a single thought. ‘No one breaks into a dorm to deliver a rejection.’

She rushed over and opened it. In it was a plain piece of paper with a date and time on it–tomorrow afternoon. The text below was simple.

“We’d like to kindly invite you to initiation at Delta Sigma.”

Luna let out a happy squeal. Not a rejection at all.