Page 153 of Saving Sparrow
The campus overflowed with students, all hurrying in and out of buildings or scurrying across the expansive lawn. We shared a group hug and a kiss outside of Wembly Hall, both Miguel and I holding on to Quentin’s shirt to keep him with us.
“We should’ve spent some time apart this summer,” Miguel said. “A practice run.”
Quentin scoffed. “Fuck that. What you two should’ve done was enroll in my major. Then we could’ve taken all our classes together.”
“Sports and business management?” I scrunched up my nose. “No thanks.”
“Hey, this face and body are going to bring in big bucks once I get drafted. I’ve gotta learn how to manage it.”
Both Miguel and I shook our heads at him.
“Besides,” Quentin continued, “you aren’t even sure you want to get an English degree.”
“At least it closely aligns with my literary interests. It’s enough until I figure it out.” In
truth, I didn’t know what I wanted to do or who I wanted to be. I didn’t know enough about anything to decide.
“Yeah, yeah.” Quentin kissed us one last time before jogging away.
Student traffic had drastically reduced, everyone likely already seated in their classes. Miguel and I hurried into the building, reading the signs for the lecture hall.
We made it in the nick of time. Ten seconds later and we would’ve been marked late, according to our professor. He took our names, confirmed our pronouns, then dismissed us with a flick of his wrist.
“Ballbuster 2.0,” Miguel muttered under his breath as we moved past the one open seat along the bottom row for the two available ones at the top.
“And finally,” Professor Ingram called out, finishing up attendance, “Ms. Rachel Sullivan.”
“Here!” a girl dressed in all black said. She sat between the two open seats.
“Do you mind switching?” Miguel whispered to her once we’d made it to the top row.
“Sure.” She slid her things over and moved down a seat.
“Thanks,” I said as we settled down at the long table.
The door opened about five minutes into the syllabus review, and I sat up straighter. The class glanced over at the doorway, but most of them lost interest in the latecomer pretty quickly. There were others who gawked, though, and a handful who camouflaged their laughter with coughs or cleared throats. The latecomer either didn’t notice or pretended not to.
“You’re late,” Professor Ingram said, sliding his glasses on to scan his attendance sheet. “Everyone on my list is already checked in. Who are you, and why are you here?”
“My name’s Kayden Sims. I’m a late add.” Kayden held out a sheet of paper for the professor to read.
Professor Ingram sighed, sliding the attendance sheet across the table to Kayden. “Very well, add your name and pronouns to the bottom and have a seat. Quickly,” he added before addressing the class again.
Ingram went over assignments and expectations, but his booming voice went in one ear and out the other. I was too fixated on Kayden’s pleated skirt and thick-soled boots as they walked to the only remaining seat up front.
“You okay?” Miguel whispered, startling me.
“Um, yeah.”
I stole glances at Kayden over the rest of class, noting the earrings dangling from their ears and the streak of pink running across their dark, cropped hair. I desperately wanted to know their pronouns, to know if they were a guy who preferred to wear women’s clothing like I did, or if they were simply dressing according to their gender identity.
Either way, if this were Locklier, Delaney and his crew would’ve had a field day with Kayden, and it made me wonder how things were going for Kayden here at Wembly. Not everyone had someone like Quentin guarding their backs.Ihad Quentin protecting my back, and I was still too afraid to be my full self outside of our apartment.
Miguel and I quickly collected our things at the end of class. We had fifteen minutes to make it across campus. Professor Ingram was packing up, but the attendance sheet still rested at the edge of his desk. Discreetly, I glanced at the name written in pink ink at the bottom as I passed. The “i” in Kayden’s last name had a heart over it. My gaze flew over the pronouns.He/him/his.
Having been closer to the door, Kayden made it out of class before us, hips swaying as he went. He was already turning the corner up ahead by the time we got into the hall. I did catch a few people doing a double take at him before he disappeared from sight.
“Ellie?” Miguel sounded worried, and from the look on his face, he’d called my name more than once.
