Saturday, September 21st, 1974

Ah, yes, Saturdays. The day when we didn’t have drills or classes, but were obligated to accomplish assigned chores by the school. Unfortunately, we freshmen were pretty jinxed and were assigned multiple chores starting at 6 AM and finally finishing around 3 PM. Meanwhile, the older students were only obligated to clean their laundry and participate in fun weekend clubs.

“Hey, first years! Hurry the hell up with the chores already!” One skinny, chocolate-haired final-year student with a Germanic accent and his two friends taunted from the stairs which led to the first floor. Christopher and I ignored the tall boys in their polished light-hazel uniforms and continued to carry our basket of clean laundry back to our dorms.

Though, as a safety protocol I came up with on the fly, I knocked on our history teacher's door and bailed with Chris and our baskets down the side hallway. As we turned the corner, we heard our vulture-like history teacher start roaring. “WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU BOYS DOING???”

“Misses Smithe! It wasn’t us who knocked! We -”

“I DO NOT CARE! GO BACK UPSTAIRS WHERE YOU BELONG!!!” She hissed at the trio of troublemaking boys. Chris and I, behind the wall, snickered our way back to our dorm. 

“T-that was so funny!” The boy from Saskatchewan shook with laughter as he closed our door behind us. “Sweet Agnes MacPhail, I thought we were gonna die out there!” 

“We might die later, no thanks to those final-year students, but for now, consider this our victory!” I gave off my signature wide grin and dumped my clean laundry on my bed. “Ah, geez. Knocking on Mrs. Smithes's door reminded me of when I used to go ding-dong ditching back home, and I miss it! ” 

“Oh! I never had the balls to do that, since my Dad’s very strict.” Christopher awkwardly admitted as he began folding his white T-shirts. 

“I mean, my Mom was strict too, but it’s all about playing it cool like a cat and pretending you were at a friend's house or out grocery shopping!” I advised with a playful wink. 

“Right… friends!” 

A sombre air fell upon both of us as Chris silently made it clear he didn’t have many or any friends. He was the nerdy type of boy who was pretty socially awkward when he wasn’t around James or me, so I wasn’t surprised. But the way he muttered ‘friends’ brought me guilt. He seemed to ruffle his uniform’s sleeves, but I thought he was just scratching an itch on his wrist.

“Hey, it’s alright, Chris. I didn’t have many friends growing up. In fact, I was one hell of a target for bullying,” I admitted with full honesty. 

“R-really?”

Oh gosh, I could hear the ache in Chris’s weakened, raspy voice. I looked up from my half-done pile of laundry and saw the kid from Saskatchewan with foggy tears in his green eyes. “S-sorry. I know I’m a total putz f-for crying-”

I instantly patted Chris on the back and gave him a thumbs-up. “H-hey dude, I’m not gonna give you shit for your tears. Sure, I don’t cry, but you can.” It was very difficult to be “macho” in a moment like this, but I tried to be comforting like a rock. 

Was I a good rock? Eh, I’m not too sure…

“T-Thanks… I-it’s just that….” Chris wiped his tears with his sleeve and shook his head. “I think I’m starting to really hate this school. I-it’s so illogical to wake up a bunch of teenagers at five in the morning, and the way some of the students act is aggravating! It makes being back home look like a breeze…” 

I could hear the hesitation in my friend’s voice, but I didn’t want to push further. Poor boy was already crying, and it’d be over for him if anyone were eavesdropping on our conversation. As seen on television, I gave Chris a well-meaning nuggie on his shaggy head and sighed.

“Listen, Chris. As much as it doesn’t look like it, I hate this place too, like a whole lot.” I folded my arms and plopped onto my soft bed with a long sigh. “Sure, I got some cool muscles from our training, but something about this place just doesn’t feel right.” 

“Y-you sense that odd sensation too?” 

If only I could tell this poor dork my secret. I plainly nodded in agreement. “Yeah, dude. I definitely sense it. Honestly, you and James are my only close friends in this prison-”

Speaking of the Quebecois devil, our main door swung open, and James came marching in. He was covered in mud, his eyes twitched with irritation, and he glared at us with fiery, dark brown irises filled with annoyance. “Those fucking final-year students pushed me into the mud while I was picking up trash… I’m gonna get their asses back with a prank!” 

As if rising from the dead, I picked myself up from my soft bed and let out a mischievous laugh. “Let’s fill their lockers with marbles or some other bullshit we can come up with on the fly!” 

Christopher only looked down in sadness and continued folding his laundry. 

James let out a half-annoyed chuckle and marched towards the washroom to wash off the mud. “Oh. Wait, before I go rinse off, I've got some good news! I heard from the other Block A students down the red hallway that the high school girls down the street are going to be walking by our academy tomorrow.” 

Seriously? Why the hell didn’t my Mom send me to that school???

“Ooh, girls! Hell yeah!” I nodded and folded my arms with pride, as if I wasn’t a girl myself. 

Christopher parroted my gesture and opened the window for some fresh autumn air. 

“Hell yeah, broski. Wonder if one of them’s attractive enough to catch our eyes?” James grinned at us and then left to wash off in the bathroom. 

“... Maybe it’s just me, but I couldn’t really care less about seeing girls right now.” Christopher quietly shrugged and looked down with a glint of shame in his eyes. 

Patting my friend’s back, I silently nodded along to comfort him. Truth be told, I actually was excited to see other girls for once. Even if I still had to go undercover as a boy at our military academy. But seeing how my friend was clearly stuck in a gloomy mood, I decided to play the role of a wise friend. “I think we dudes should just focus on ourselves and our grades first. We’ll have time to be a bunch of wide-eyed Casanovas and kiss plenty of girls once we graduate!” 

“... Yeah, you have a solid point, Basil. Thanks.” The kid from Saskatchewan lifted himself back up, and he continued to clumsily fold his fresh laundry.

Once we finished the folding and tidied up our dorms by 4 PM, we decided to play a friendly game of Poker. Three unsettling feelings twisted my mind as James and Christopher casually spoke about the type of weather we had back home. One, I noticed how James was really enthusiastic about being outdoors. Maybe a little too much, as Christopher tried to talk about his Mom, James would yank the conversation towards outdoorsy things like fishing with his uncle or hiking up wintry trails to spot rare types of birds. It really reminded me of myself when people tried talking about my dead Dad. 

Wonder if his Dad’s dead too? I shouldn’t ask just yet. 

The second observation was something I can't believe I didn't realize sooner. Chris decided to gloomily mention that his birthday on September 2nd had already passed.

"I was too afraid to really tell anyone, as we had just met."

"O-oh. Well, shit. Happy belated, Chris." James casually nodded and patted the back of the Saskatchewan native.

"Yeah, happy late birthday!" Just as I grinned, I had to pause to think. When I was in middle school, birthdays were such a big deal. Every last student would get a happy birthday, even an outcast like me got a few cards here and there... Even if they were written with backhanded messages. "... Y'know fellas, is it just me or does nobody in this school talk about their birthdays?" 

"I haven't noticed." James plainly shrugged, as if it weren't a big deal. 

Christopher seemed to squint his eyes at me for just a moment before flinching and turning his head toward our window. "Uh... When you really think about it, I guess birthdays aren't that cool to acknowledge." 

My eyes widened with shock; has this World gone mad? Why is being nice on someone's birthday suddenly "uncool"? Am I the unpopular one for thinking we should party it up and eat cake on a day like that? 

I tried getting a word in, but James decided to bring up how he found a wild brown bear on one of his hiking trips. I tried my damnest to listen to that crazy story, but I couldn't shake off that strange feeling. Maybe I am the crazy one for talking about enjoying birthdays; they are a little childish... I guess on November 7th, I need to shut up and try to sneak myself a tiny cupcake from the cafeteria's snack stand.

But as Chris and James continued talking about bears, my mind internally wandered to what I had declared about kissing girls earlier. I don’t know if I’m such a good actor that I fooled myself, but that statement felt a little too real to me. It was a little too enthusiastic, even though I highly doubt I’m gonna be wild and kiss a girl in front of everyone. Hell, I might just wave at the passing girls and go about my day. After all, there's nothing really special about meeting another girl!

Great, now I’m daydreaming about being friends with one of the girls and potentially asking her out like those dumb, cheesy romance movies. 

Am I gay?? Nah, I don’t think so. 

I have a big crush on Sergio after all, and he’s one pretty guy! I think that I’ve just been around boys so much that being around girls my age would be a nice change of pace!

… I think I need to keep the sentiment to myself.