Friday, September 27th, 1974

Thank the heavens above, those dumb boys didn’t snitch on me from last time! Though weirdly, the Block A boys have been a lot more receptive to my presence. Asking for high-fives, greeting me like “Sup, Basil?”, and lending their expertise on homework if I had a question. Despite my sudden ego boost, Sergio, Christopher, and James in the background kept me humble. My friends from across Canada picked at my flaws, played card games, and treated me like before. Meanwhile, the handsome boy from Mexico still kept his fair distance.

Today, however, brought me hell that really did serve me more than just being humble.

…

8 AM history class, our vulture-like teacher, Mrs. Smithe, brought up our first major unit, World War 2. To say the atmosphere of our windowless class was tense would be an understatement. The only ones who seemed mostly chill were the South American Latinos, as everyone else glared at each other, especially the Europeans. 

Oh boy, were they glaring daggers and flipping each other off in secret. 

Klaudius Schmidt, who sat beside me today, was usually very nonchalant and always kept a cool, serious vibe. But today was clearly a sore spot, and his gaze darted straight down, as if he were choked up. Everyone, even the teacher, was on edge, so I braced for impact and turned the thick pages in my grey history textbook. James, who always sat beside me, subtly nudged my elbow and handed me a piece of folded paper. 

He scribbled down: ‘Don’t say anything. Don’t pass notes. At the back table, they’re starting a silent war.’

Ah shit. I can already imagine the derogatory names being written down, and my right hand curled up into a fist. My father, Will Hatcher, fought in WW2 as a sniper aiming at the heads of vicious Italian fascists, and the fact that these brain-dead losers were potentially trying to point fingers and try to start immature “you’re pure good or evil because you’re from this country” bullcrap made my blood boil. 

During Mrs. Smithe’s lesson on the beginnings of WW2, my stomach churned just from my impatience alone! My 2B pencil snapped in my right hand, and both James and Klaudius noticed.

Damn, I didn’t know I was capable of being this upset, where it physically hurt me!

By the end of the lesson, I forced myself to take a deep breath as the students began to pack up their belongings. Though as I stood up, a piece of crumpled paper was thrown at Klaudius’s head. He was clearly uncomfortable, and his sharpened gaze jerked towards the centre of the class. A group of Scandinavian boys dressed in our navy-blue uniforms were smugly grinning.

“You should read what’s on it, Blitzkrieg!” Leiv, a Norwegian student, chuckled along with other representatives from Scandinavian countries. 

Clearly uncomfortable, Klaudius reached for the paper, but I quickly snatched it for him with a deep frown. James instantly tapped on my shoulder and whispered, “Hey, Basil, you should back off,” but I had no plans to do such a thing.

Klaudius was a pretty sweet dude and never caused anyone problems, ever. Hell, he was one of the few Block A students who didn’t show up to bother the girls the other day. So, his being picked on because he was German was unacceptable!

“Not today, Satan, not today!” I forced a chuckle to suppress my own impatience and glared at the group of Scandinavians. 

“You’re friends with him??” Leiv Vollen from Norway had dramatically gasped and turned to his friends with a mocking grin.

“Why the hell not?!” I scoffed before I felt a cold hand on my right shoulder. 

Ah, crap.

“Mr. Hatcher, what is that piece of paper in your hand? You dare pass notes in my class???” Mrs. Smithe loudly accused as the room fell completely silent. My nerves were about to be shot; the air thickened. I honestly expected to stay after class, but instead, the quiet German turned his head towards the teacher and pointed at Leiv and his friends.

“That boy over there threw that at Basil’s head.” Klaudius half-fibbed, glaring at the Norwegian boy, whose smug expression quickly faded into one of panic.

“I saw it too.” James pitched in, not really caring if he would be called a narc. 

“Oh, so that’s how it is… Leiv! Detention!” Mrs. Smithe harshly called out with her shrill voice as Klaudius, James, and I audied out of the classroom.

“Hey! Thanks for that save, Klaudius. I thought I was minced meat.” I nervously chuckled. 

“I should be thanking you... Danke.” Klaudius awkwardly, but well-meaningly, smiled.

“No problem. Just let me know if they start throwing paper at you again; I’ll beat them up for you!” 

“That is not necessary, but it is appreciated, Basil.” 

This kid was a Saint! Seriously, I don’t know how he tolerates being labelled one of the most disgusting humans to live on this planet. Even James was surprised by how well he held himself today.

…

As 7 PM rolled around, I wound up in my usual routine of hanging out in the first floor’s Chapel. My mind found itself daydreaming about comedy specials, since television is practically nonexistent at our academy. Today, as per usual, Vincent decided to interrupt me. 

I’ve decided that every time this guy bothers me, I’ll just write down his name as Vincent instead of Vincenzo. Will he kill me? Oh, absolutely, but this bastard really annoys me.

Vincent smugly grinned, as per usual and sat by my head. He decided to place his hands on the back of his head, as I glared at him. Gosh, I could even smell his strong cologne, and my nose instinctively wrinkled at the scent. “You must really value this Chapel, Basil.”

“Uh huh. I sure do.” I sighed and lifted my head, not having the patience to deal with any of his mockery.

“Ah, I see that I’m not wanted here, even though I thought we were friends…” He suddenly leaned into my face with a grin. “What’s bothering you? Is it me?”

I forced a grin and laughed. “Nah, not at all, Mister Fiorello! I was just enjoyin’ some peace, since it’s always so damn noisy in these hallways.”

He suddenly put his arm around my neck and pulled me in for a “chummy” hug. “You’re so mysterious, you know that? Why not hang out at your dorm for some peace instead of acting like a vampire and hiding in this dimly lit room?” 

Something in his pretentious tone near-instantly set me off, and I quickly separated myself from his hug. If I could even call it a “hug”, that was more like a spider wrapping its arms around its prey. I stood up, folded my arms and scrutinized him dead in his olive green irises. “Woah, dude! Ever heard of personal space?”

With a wide grin, Vincent stood up and put his hands up in defence. “Now you’re just acting like I’m trying to expose some sort of secret from you.”

“Ha! Really funny, Vincent!”

His left eye ever-so-slightly twitched.

“Listen, dude, I got nothing to hide except the fact that I’m secretly a future comedian!” I deepened my voice further and grinned at the boy who was about to interrogate me. He let out an annoyed sigh and rolled his eyes. As he slowly turned away toward the exit, I decided to turn my back on him. 

Big fucking mistake. 

Out of the blue, he lunged at my back, grabbed my uniform’s collar to restrain my breathing, and pushed me to the ground. “HEY! WHAT THE FUCK?” 

This guy’s skinnier than me, but damnnit, he caught me off guard! I quickly loosened his grip on my collar and kicked his shin. He gritted his teeth at the pain and tried to punch my face; the bastard ended up punching my chest. I hissed in discomfort and expected Vincent to lunge at me or run away and start snitching. With fire in my eyes, I darted up with raised fists and waited for his next move. But instead, he bore a horror-stricken expression and stopped moving. All he could muster from his quivering lips was a subtle and shaky: “... what?” 

“What do you mean what???” I raised my fists again in anger, hoping to hear him blow off this fight.

“... Who the hell are you?” Vincenzo’s fist uncurled as he looked into my grey irises with that same authentic shock.

Hell was about to be unleashed, and my heart sank to my knees at the question. I quickly diverted my gaze towards the Chapel's exit and then to Vincent. His frightened expression hardened into his typical high-and-mighty smug one. He dusted off his uniform and began to chuckle to himself slowly. 

I was really in for it now.

“See, Vincent, that depends on what you mean-” 

“You’re a girl.” 

The lack of emotion in his tone sent a haunting chill down my spine. Now I was put on the spot, and any second, he could go racing down the hallway and snitch on me. With no real solution in my head, I resorted to the one thing that brought me comfort. 

“HA! Wow, now you’re calling me a girl just ‘cause I didn’t wanna hang out with you. You’re hilarious, Mister Fiorello!”

“If you keep laughing like a goddamn maniac, I swear on my life that I will tell the Headmaster about you. Silencio.” Without hesitation, the Italian boy marched up to me with a deadly glare upon his pale visage. Without a choice, I immediately complied as I stared back at Vincenzo. “... Now answer the question I asked: who the hell are you?” 

Holding my hands in defence over my head, I replied. “... Ya got me. I am a girl…” 

Emitting a mild chuckle, Vincenzo put his hand on my shaking shoulder and shook his head. “So, not only did your Mother forge your documents, depicting you as a boy, but you enjoyed lying to all of us for the past month. Playing the charade of a clownish boy from Canada… I bet your real name isn’t Basil.” 

Any further lies would trap me further in a corner, so I shook my head. 

“Then what is it?” 

In a quiet hush, I whispered. “It’s Cocoa.” 

“... A beautiful name. Though it’d be quite the disgraceful scandal if I had to inform the Headmaster of the illegal forgery-”

Time slowed to a crawl, and the memory of my teary-eyed Mama begging me to stay in this academy washed over my conscience. My right hand reached for Vincenzo’s arm and didn’t let go. My thick brows furrowed with irritation, and my eyes stung with salty tears. “P-Please don’t tell anyone.” 

Of course, that snakeish snob was pleased with my crying. With a cold smile, he leaned into my ear with a sinister idea. “If you want me to keep quiet, then you and I will have to make a deal.” 

My heart couldn’t take the anxiety, and I felt my hands go cold.

“Obviously, you’re not attending another school because your Mother needs you to graduate from this specific place. This prestigious academy not only brings excellent connections to powerful people like me, but it also pays families a generous salary if their kids achieve decent grades…  Meaning, if you dropped out, there’d be serious consequences for you back home, wouldn’t there?” 

As much as I try to forget and live in my own little World, my Mother, before I came to this academy, desperately urged that I had to finish school here, no matter the circumstances. The realization made my eyes widen with horror. I knew we didn’t have a lot of money, but I couldn’t believe our situation was that serious. 

A single sweat gland ran down my pale forehead, and I slowly nodded at the statement. I fucked up big time, and the consequences of my actions today would lead me down a hellish path.

“So here’s our little pact. All I ask is that you do my chores and assist me with fetching items like my bags and textbooks from the library… and in exchange, I won’t tell a living soul that you’re a filthy crossdresser.” Vincent coldly grinned, held out his right hand and presented the fakest smile I’ve ever seen. “Is that a deal, Cocoa?” 

“... Let's shake on it, Vincenzo,” I grunted and firmly shook his hand. 

“Hah, your palms are still sweaty.” 

‘Your palms would be sweaty too if your biggest secret came out.’ I silently thought to myself before letting out a big sigh. “Y-yeah… I’m gonna head back to the pad and go to bed.” 

“Already? It’s only 7:30 PM.”

“I’m just really exhausted, and my brain’s not working… Night, Vincenzo.” 

“If you say so.” Vincent slowly approached a wax candle and blew it out. “Buonanotte, Cocoa.”

Well, shit. Not even a month into pretending to be a boy, and the absolute worst person at this school had to figure it out because of the completely dumb mistake of letting my guard down. With the fear of Vincenzo’s narcing to our Headmaster looming over my head, I returned to my dorm and lay on my bed staring at the red ceiling, not sleeping until 3 AM.