Kiara: Onward (Goodbye, Tom.)

Tuesday, May 26

6:16 AM.

Grandma Kelly is on baby duty this morning, but I'm up anyway. I couldn't sleep. It's humid as hell from all the rain. My hair is everywhere. My boobs are annoying the bejeezes out of me. And I think I had a sex dream.

I'm up. Splash some water on my face, brush the tangles out of my hair, change my underwear. I think about how I merely find my jugs annoying these days instead of painful. They still occasionally dribble milk, but for the most part they're not a going concern other than "the reason my shoulders are sore."

I can't do much with them. They are what they are. I feel a little sad that here I am, with a pair of my own boobs to play with whenever I like, and they're just... whatever.

I check my underarms. I could probably go another day or two without shaving, but sleeveless-season is upon us so I should stay on top of it. My legs too. I don't think there's anything wrong with a woman having body hair, but... I guess I don't want to be a woman with body hair.

I thought today would feel special. Today is the first day I am Kiara. I'm really not Tom anymore. The original Ki never took me up on my ultimatum. I am here for good and today is the first day I know that for sure. But it just feels like Tuesday.

7:54 AM.

But by now it's almost 8 and I've got to get along to school. I dress in a tank top and some shorts. it's been raining, so the humidity is going crazy. I pull all my hair back into a fuzzball ponytail thing.

I hear the baby fussing and it strikes me in the gut, but Kelly's got it. Now I'm wondering if I should have bothered staying. With Kelly and Jen as support, someone else could fulfill this role, I could be anywhere else. But I banish those thoughts. The baby needs a mom, and the wrong one could really screw her up.

8:18 AM.

It's the first day of the new term and I'm taking Writer's Craft. This should be a breeze. I could teach that class, well, maybe if I liked dropouts and delinquents. I signed up for summer courses because I'm thiiis close to a GED, which means being able to determine what the hell I'm supposed to do with the rest of my life. No sense in taking the summer off, you know?

I'm early. Sunita is here -- she thought this was an all-purpose English course and by the time I had explained the difference, she was already registered. A few other classmates trickle in, all looking miserable to be here. This won't be a big course. It might end up feeling like a really casual college seminar or something, with fewer than a dozen students, depending how the teacher is.

8:31 AM.

The teacher breezes through the door, apologizing for being late, this is his first day on this campus. He writes his name on the chalkboard.

"MR. WIGHT"

As he turns to address us, he freezes, like he sees something scary and unexpected in the crowd. And it's not a very big crowd. But he composes himself and moves on without further comment.

I bite my tongue and stay focused, not averting my eyes as if I've done anything wrong. Just lookign at him as if I'm an normal student and he's a normal teacher.

Because Mr. Wight is Donovan. The guy I hooked up with last month and ghosted.

11:58 AM

The morning session is done.  He's spent the period going over some general principles and the syllabus. His eyes seem to find every student in the room but me.

The students file out -- I'm something like fourth or fifth. I pay him a "meaningless" glance on my way past.

1:00 PM

My afternoon class is auto shop. Why not. I didn't know how to fix a car as a man, maybe it will be a useful skill to have. Maybe someday I'll be at some mechanic and they'll be like "You see ma'am your carburetor blah blah blah" and I can be like "Actually my carburetor yadda yadda yadda." I don't know. All I know is that all these 20-year-old guys use it an excuse to fuck around (because they already know their shit) and discuss what my pussy might taste like loud enough that they have to know I can hear them.

I steal glances at my phone in case Donovan has texted. He hasn't.

4:04 PM

I have to take the bus 30 minutes out of the way to pick up Sienna from daycare. I think about how my life would be incrementally easier with a source of income. I have no idea how I'm supposed to be making money for the rest of my life. It seems unlikely I'll go back into journalism.

7:10 PM

Dinner's on the table. I made macaroni and cheese for whoever's around. The kids descend on it like locusts. Sienna has a tube of vegetable goo.

9:03 PM

The phone lights up with a notification.

It's Donovan. He has written, very neutrally, "We should find some time to talk, I guess."

I don't have the energy to respond at this point. Sienna has been down for an hour. I fall asleep in my clothes.

Wednesday, May 27

2:02 AM

Not taking my bra off before I fell asleep was a huge mistake. Underwire is my new enemy.