Max plodded along sullenly through the empty halls. The footfalls of his giant jock feet reverberated distinctly against the cinder block walls. Max was so angry about being tossed out of biology class that he hadn't yet given sufficient thought to where he was headed. He knew there were two guidance counselors that worked at the school: a man and a woman. The man dealt exclusively with college planning and other matters of curricula, while the woman was more involved with kids that were having behavioral issues or who had special needs. Of course, he resented being sent to either one of them since he had always considered himself to be well adjusted and independent enough to navigate his academic career on his own. In his mind their services were meant only for the academic riffraff of the school.
Mrs. Watley had referred to the counselor as a female and Max had a dim impression that the female counselor worked out of an office somewhere on the ground level of the southern wing, so he headed in that direction with just a bit of apprehension and uncertainty... He had never paid much thought to the southern wing of the school since it was dedicated to the kinds of basket-weaving and taffy-pulling classes that he would never be caught dead taking. As he arrived at the central concourse of the school and gazed down the length of the southern hallway before him, it suddenly struck him just how REAL the hallway actually was. Up to that point his mind had treated it more like a painting of a hallway, an impassable facade just below his notice… He found it entertaining to think of himself as a cartoon character stepping into a painted mural as he strode into the hallway for the very first time...
Max quickly made his way down the unfamiliar hallway scanning each door as he passed. As he neared the end of the hall, he became aware that the last few rooms he had passed had been totally empty. He was growing concerned that he may have gone too far since the rest of the hallway seemed to be relatively deserted... Maybe he had walked past the counselor's office already without noticing... He was about to turn back when he heard a rowdy ruckus coming from the last room at the end of the hallway on the right. He considered turning back but decided it would be best to check that room out first. He didn't want to have to come all the way back here later just because he failed to do a thorough search on his first pass, and the noises coming from that room were too bizarre to ignore, so he cautiously headed for the door and peeked through the window.
The room was furnished with floor mats and large, colorful, geometric cushions along with a couple of long, narrow tables against the walls. There was a group of seven or eight physically and mentally handicapped teens bustling around in a sort of structured chaos.
"The short-bus kids!" Max thought to himself with realization, surprised and embarrassed that he hadn't mentally used a more sensitive and politically correct term, but even in the face of that realization he was finding it difficult to come up with an alternative phrasing. "So THIS is where they go all day..."
Max immediately felt the need to get away from there. This was definitely not where he was supposed to be and he never knew how to act around disabled kids; but before he could make a clean retreat, a boy with Downs syndrome turned towards the door and shouted, "He's here already!"
Max froze in place as a teacher moved toward the door and swung her body out into the hall to greet him.
"Hi, can I help you?" she asked.
"Uh, no... I'm sorry... I don't think I'm the person you were expecting... I'm supposed to meet with the guidance counselor," Max said uneasily enough to betray his discomfort.
"Oh, I see... We weren't expecting anyone," she replied, clearly aware of the source of his confusion. "Keith just saw you out here and decided to make one of his helpful announcements; that's all. He's always got something to say... Right Keith?"
"I'll allow it," Keith replied flatly.
"So, you're trying to find Mrs. Comstock, right?" she continued.
"Yeah. Sorry. I've never been to her office before. I thought it was down this way, but I didn't see it anywhere."
"Yeah. You're really close; you just passed it. It's kind of tucked away and hard to find... Do you see that little hallway just back there?" She said pointing to a small cutout in the wall next to the special-needs classroom. "Her office is down that hall and on the right-hand side."
Max noticed she was speaking very clearly and making slightly exaggerated gestures to add clarity to her words, as if to imply he needed a little extra help to understand simple directions... He would have been more upset if it had been any more overt, but there was a natural ease to the way she conducted herself, and somehow it didn't come across nearly as condescending as perhaps it should have, so he dismissed it as an innate part of her special education background...
"Great. Thanks. Sorry, for interrupting your class," he said, eager to move along.
"That's alright. Have a great day."
"Don't be late next time!" Keith shouted after him as he turned to leave.
Max slid into the narrow hallway and tried to make sense of its layout. It was an unusual little passage. He hadn't seen another one like it in the rest of the building, so it was not surprising that it had escaped his notice. There was a nondescript door on the right-hand side that had what appeared to be childish scribble drawings proudly plastered all over it, but there was no nameplate or official designation of any kind on display. Deciding this was probably the right office, he poked his head inside and offered an uneasy experimental greeting.
"Hello?"
"Oh hi, Max," came an eager reply from around the corner. "Come on in. We'll have a chat just as soon as I finish with JJ. Oh, and you'll be happy to know that I've made a brand-new addition to my 'Famous Candy Bowl' just for you. They're malted milk balls. I think they're similar to those Canadian ones, but the American version, of course. I hope you like them!"
"I love milk balls!" Max replied, forgetting himself for a moment. He dove for the bowl and immediately ripped into a bag without a second thought. He poured a few of the chocolate-coated orbs into his mouth, packing them into his cheek and sucking on them eagerly. He savored the familiar sensation as the chocolate slowly softened, gently pressing in and around the surface of his teeth, conforming to them perfectly before disappearing completely, leaving nothing but the firm malted centers rolling across his molars like candy marbles that themselves seemed to magically dissolve away without warning, releasing a slurry of sweet, malted flavor throughout his mouth as the gritty remnants of the confection continued to dissipate away into nothing. "I've had Whoppers before. They're great! They may not be as good as MALTESERS, but I love 'em! How did you know I -"
Mrs. Comstock raised a hand to quiet Max and gestured towards one of the chairs near the back wall. Max understood that she was busy tending to the boy that was sitting next to her and meekly sat down to quietly await his own turn. He looked up at JJ who appeared to be a freshman soccer player wearing his school jersey and sporting frosted tips in his short stylish hair. He looked pretty cool, athletic, and sporty, but he had a painful expression on his face that made it clear that he felt very uncomfortable with Max's presence. Mrs. Comstock returned her attention to the extra large print of the oversized booklet in front of her and began reading a passage about the Spanish-American war. Max listened intently, easily becoming interested in the topic which he had never been very familiar with before. When she had completed the passage, she began reading off simple questions about its contents to JJ, who didn't seem to have paid very much attention. He needed her to repeat most of the questions multiple times and even asked her on a few occasions to re-read large portions of the passage before being able to give any sort of answer. To Max's utter astonishment JJ was getting almost every answer wrong despite the inordinate amount of encouragement, positive reinforcement, and hand holding he was receiving.
After all of the questions on the Spanish-American war had been completed, Mrs. Comstock began reading a new passage about Russian dancing. While Max started out intent on absorbing the information in order to privately prove to himself how academically superior he was to JJ, he instead began wondering why JJ couldn't seem to stay focused on the test. He looked up at JJ's eyes and could immediately tell his mind was drifting far away from the task at hand. He was just staring blankly at the wall! Max turned his head to follow JJ's gaze and saw nothing on the wall of any interest whatsoever. It was just an empty spot of drywall... Well, there was kind of a crack, sort of. It was faint but you could definitely see it if you looked close enough. In fact, the crack was a lot bigger than it first appeared; it went all the way up to the ceiling which was really just a drop ceiling, so who knows how high it extended? It could go on forever... There was a single tile on the ceiling that looked like someone had urinated on it, or spilled coffee all over it, or something. Why was there always one or two tiles in every room that looked like that? They never seemed to get any worse over time, and it's not like you ever saw one dripping water onto the floor or anything... Has anyone ever seen a drop ceiling without any leak-stained tiles? What was that all about? Could there be rats up there peeing on random tiles all over the school, or racoons, or ceiling hobos? They should replace the ceiling tiles with glass panels so you could see what goes on up there... What would it look like if there was a whole party going on in the ceiling with people dancing and a mariachi band and everything? What's the difference between a Mexican maraca and a baby rattle anyway? If you showed a baby rattle to a Mexican, would they just think it was some sort of cheap infant maraca, or would -
"JJ... JJ?" Mrs. Comstock said, shaking JJ's shoulder... "Did you hear the question, JJ? What attributes make newts unique among salamanders?"
JJ snapped awake and looked down at the booklet in confusion. "You haven't read about newts yet. I think you forgot that section..."
"I read it JJ," Mrs. Comstock reassured him firmly. "You weren't paying attention again."
"No. He's right!" Max broke in, coming to JJ's defense. "You didn't read about newts. The last passage you read was about Russian dancing. Maybe the pages got stuck together or something and you skipped it by mistake."
"You see what I have to deal with?" Mrs. Comstock said to JJ, shaking her head. "You boys live in your own little worlds."
"Oh, wow," JJ exclaimed, staring at Max with wide eyes and a dopey grin. "Is that what I'm like all the time?"
"All the time," Mrs. Comstock replied, shaking her head and masking an exhausted sigh with laughter.
"What do you mean?" Max demanded indignantly. "Neither of us heard anything about newts."
"Yeah, but the last section was about sea emenoly," JJ said teasingly. "You musta not heard that section either... Do you have ADHD too?"
"I keep telling you, JJ, it’s pronounced 'Sea Anemone'," Mrs. Comstock said, trying to recover control of the situation. "... and let's not discuss each other's learning problems right now. Please stay focused on the test..."
"Emenoly... Enemoly... Elemony..." JJ said, playing with various pronunciations; inevitably bringing himself to laughter.
"Come on now... That's enough... Back to it mister!" Mrs. Comstock said sternly.
Max and JJ exchanged glances. It seemed JJ was now much more at ease with Max being in the room. Max, on the other hand, was mortified at losing any shred of implied academic clout in these stranger's eyes. Now JJ thought of them as equals, but Max was WAY smarter than this JJ kid! He just hadn't been listening because he hadn't been interested, that's all. It wasn't HIS test anyway. It's not like he couldn't pay attention if he had wanted to... He allowed his mind to wander on purpose... Didn't he?
As the test proctoring continued, Max found it harder and harder to keep up with the material. It was as though Mrs. Comstock was purposely skipping vital information when she read, but even when she read a question multiple times, it was hard to know exactly what the test wanted to know. Eventually Max got tired of putting so much effort into such a pointless test. He didn't have anything to prove. He was an ace student, after all. He wasn't here to entertain himself by engaging in remedial examinations, he shouldn't even be there at all...
Soon Max was staring again, with his eyes firmly planted on the ‘Famous Candy Bowl’. His mind felt foggy and even though he was moderately aware of his zoned-out state, he couldn’t muster the willpower to break his gaze away... His eyes were helplessly entranced by the bright playful colors of the candy wrappers, and he simply couldn’t persuade them to turn away no matter how hard he tried! Max felt trapped in his own mind. He couldn’t shake himself awake and he couldn’t make sense of the muffled voices around him. He was almost entirely cut off from the world; all that existed for Max was the bowl of candy. He desperately tried to focus on it, fearful of what would happen if he allowed himself to slip back into mental oblivion, but despite his best efforts, his thoughts began to wander freely, and his mind grew increasingly untethered from the bowl until it was completely adrift and isolated from reality with no clear path of return...
"Max?" Mrs. Comstock said, pulling Max out of his thoughts.
"Huh?” Max said, looking around in confusion. “Where's JJ?"
"He left for his next class when the bell rang, but you were off in your own little world again..." she replied with a knowing chuckle. "I'm very familiar with the thousand-mile stare, believe me... Sorry I had to snap you out of it, but we'd better talk about what happened with you in class today."
"Oh, right," Max said uneasily, trying to regather his thoughts about what happened in class... "Shouldn't I get to my next period though? I've got C++ next, and I don't wanna miss it."
"No. I think it's important that we talk about what happened first," she replied, throwing Max another bag of Whoppers. "Here, have another one of these. I'm not sure the other kids like them very much, so I need you to eat more than your fair share...."
"Thanks!" Max exclaimed, accepting the bag happily. He poured a few into his mouth before expressing how crazy the other kids were for not appreciating the candy; his Whopper filled cheek slightly distorting his words.
"Well..." Mrs. Comstock began. "Usually, I'd get your side of the story and probe deeper into the specifics of the situation, but I have a feeling this particular outburst was the culmination of a lot of instability, upheaval, and change going on in your life... Is that right, Max?"
"Yeah," Max said, brightening up and gulping down a mouthful of candy... This woman was more perceptive than he expected.
"I thought so," she replied, nodding as she narrowed her eyes. "Why don't you tell me what's been happening in your life that has you so off balance, Max."
"Well..." Max began, gearing up to unload his frustrations but hesitating to let the explanation spill out of himself uncontrolled... "I've been going through a lot of changes... Not usual ones. I mean, it's all happening so fast... Like overnight fast."
He paused and looked at her face probingly to get a sense of her interest level and for any hint of surprise, disbelief, or judgement, but she appeared to be genuinely open to hear what he had to say without criticism.
"See... I woke up this morning and my life was totally different... I've never been sexually attracted to anyone before, not even once... I mean not to ANYONE of ANY gender... Even celebrities and supermodels... And all of a sudden I'm involved with this... this... guy..."
His eyes shot back up to assess her reaction at that last word and was relieved to find her giving an encouraging nod.
"Go on," she said happily.
"Well, just yesterday I couldn't stand this guy... He's an oafish clod... I mean, when I think about it now his oafishness is really cute, but it was infuriating before... and I feel like I'm starting to become obsessed with him or something. I'm even starting to LOOK like him and DRESS like him. I feel all goofy whenever he's around, and sometimes I can't think about anything else but him!”
"That's not at all unusual. Many people change themselves to suit someone they're interested in, and it's only natural that someone you feel that way about would occupy your thoughts," she noted helpfully.
"It's not just that. It's everything. It's like every trace of my old self and my old interests have been erased from existence and replaced by sports stuff and stereotypical teen memorabilia. My body grew huge overnight. I sprouted all kinds of hair and muscles; my feet and hands are enormous and I smell so bad that my mom...Never mind."
Max stopped himself from mentioning being banished to the garage... He didn't want to say anything that might get child protective services involved...
"I just can't explain ANY of it. I feel like I woke up this morning to a whole new life..."
Max immediately regretted spilling so much of his story so carelessly. She was going to think he was crazy for sure. He looked back up to meet her eyes, dreading the response to come, but she seemed completely unfazed.
"Look Max. Every boy thinks they're the only one going through this stuff, but it's just not true. I can guarantee you that everything you're going through is totally normal."
Max was totally caught off guard by her lack of astonishment. Shouldn't she be shipping him off to the funny farm by now?
"You heard what I said, right?" Max asked skeptically. "My life changed as if by magic, and you're telling me it's totally normal?!"
"I've been counseling at this school for decades, Max, and you are far from the first boy to sit in that chair and tell me they felt like they were becoming another person. Every boy feels that way at some point or another. It's totally natural to grapple with the consequences of your growing body, and maturing feelings and come away with a profound sense of shifting identity. I know it can be disorienting; it can often seem to come on all at once without warning. One day you wake up and it just hits you how much you've grown..."
"But I really wasn't like this yesterday. I was a scrawny nerd last night!" Max Insisted.
"I understand how it can seem like that's true, but you KNOW it simply isn't possible," she replied with conviction. "These changes have been going on much longer than you realize, accumulating slowly over time. It’s jarring to suddenly notice them, but they HAVE been there. The mind is funny like that. Have you ever heard a new word, seemingly for the first time, and then noticed it being used everywhere, even in old movies and shows you had already seen before? It’s like that. The mind ignores a lot of stuff that it can’t readily make sense of or that it isn’t ready to accept until suddenly, one day, it all pops out at you as if by magic."
“I don’t know...” Max said, uncertain but oddly persuaded by her observations. “But what about my… uh... asexuality?”
“Sexuality can be fluid, especially when you’re so young. If the asexuality label doesn’t fit you anymore, that’s totally OK. Your labels are based on how YOU feel, not the other way around…”
“But I can’t be... gay..” Max grumbled, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
“Nobody is saying you are. It’s up to you to figure that out for yourself. You already came to realize that you were asexual which shows that you’re very in touch with your own feelings. Most people don’t even consider any sexualities besides gay or straight, so it’s fantastic that you’re already familiar with other possibilities… I suggest you give yourself time to understand your new feelings. You don’t need to label yourself with anything new right away… Maybe in time it will make sense to call yourself gay, or maybe you’ll realize your sexual feelings are only for this one boy and that you’re really demisexual. It’s really a matter of-”
“That’s it!” Max exclaimed, cutting Mrs. Comstock off mid-sentence. “I’m not gay, I’m demisexual... That makes perfect sense. I’ve just grown really close to Seth over time and now I’m attracted to him, that’s all. It’s just a one-off thing. I’m still firmly on the asexual spectrum… Thanks Mrs. Comstock, that solves everything. I’m sorry for my outburst in class today. My friends were acting dumb and called me a fag and I just didn’t know how to react, but now I know how to set them straight without losing my temper or getting violent. I think I’m ready to go to C++ now.”
Max stood up and headed right for the door, eager to leave.
“Hey now!” Mrs. Comstock said, prompting Max to freeze in his tracks. “I said to take it slowly, and to take your time sorting out these new feelings. I don’t think you should jump into using a new label so quickly...”
“I know, you’re right, I’m just really excited about this… I think you’ve really nailed it with the demisexuality idea. That explains everything… It just FITS! Don’t worry though, I’ll give it plenty of thought, I’m not in any hurry to label myself demisexual just yet… Is it alright if I go to C++ now?” Max pleaded, desperate to cut the uncomfortable discussion as short as possible.
“Well…” Mrs. Comstock began, looking Max over suspiciously. “I guess we’ve made enough progress on the matter for today, and we can always follow up on this subject after your next IEP session...”
“Exactly!” Max agreed without knowing what she was talking about.
“...Alright,” Mrs. Comstock relented with a smile and a sigh... “Go ahead.”