Theo

         Theo walked through the entrance hall, head down, eyes to the floor. He clutched his school books to his chest, hoping that today he would be able to escape unscathed. His jeans felt constricting, closing over his legs and hampering his movement. He walked past the main office, and was almost through the doors when a loud, raucous voice stopped him mid-stride. “Hey, wussy boy! Where you goin?”
         A large boy walked up behind Theo. He was tall, broad shouldered, and wearing tattered jeans and a shirt with food stains on it. “My, My, what a nice shirt you’re wearing.” The boy gripped the collar of Theo’s polo shirt and yanked hard. Theo was lifted onto his toes. “It would be too bad if it was ripped up, huh, wussy boy?”
         Theo suddenly felt pressure on his back. He tried to stay upright, but he was unwilling to lose his books and other precious cargo. He fell forwards, his books flying from his hands as he hit the tiles. He managed to keep his binder, and he curled into a ball, holding it to his chest. The other boy, walked around him, stepping on Theo’s books and leaving shoe prints on the pages. He laughed, gave Theo’s English book a kick, and walked away.
         Theo looked around, making sure the boy was gone, and began to gather up his things. Many of his classmates stood around him, talking in quiet voices. Theo was not liked in his class. His strange and antisocial behavior was an anathema to them, and they were unable to understand what drove his behavior. He was an outcast, and not one of them moved to help or even speak to him as he left.
         Theo moved quickly to his bicycle, and with a haste born of necessity, secured his books and binder, taking special care with the latter, and began the short ride home. Theo was used to such treatment at school, and was, if not content, then at least resigned to such a reception. He knew of the cruelty that people of his age group could be capable of. He had experienced it from his elementary school days. He had always been very different from the rest of them.
         He pulled into the garage of his family home, his clothes feeling stifling in the spring warmth. He walked through the door, trying to escape to his room before his parents noticed, but he was intercepted by his father at the base of the stairs. “Hello, son. I can see by your face that you were in another fight.”
         “Not really a fight, father. I didn’t try to fight back.”
         “That’s not the way to handle this, son. You have to stand up to them, or get someone to help you. I can understand what you are going through. We can discuss it before church today, okay? Right now, I have an important meeting to go to. Why don’t you go outside and practice your pitch, okay?”
         Theo nodded, his eyes to the floor. He had no intention of practicing his pitch. He only even accepted the birthday gift because he knew that for now, he was expected to live up to his fathers wishes for his 13 year old son. Theo had learned a long time ago that he had to keep things like what was hidden in his binder a secret from his parents.
         Theo scurried up the stairs and into his room, quickly locking the door behind him. He set his books on his desk, and reverently opened his binder. Lying on top of the notepaper was the latest issue of Elle, obtained from his sister. Theo had risked everything in bringing it to school, but he was unable to part with it. Leaving it in his room, however cleverly hidden, carried the risk of his mother finding it, and that was a dreaded possibility. He turned through the pages, gazing at the spring fashions, imagining.
         Theo turned suddenly, as if hearing a loud noise, and walked over to his closet. He opened it, pushing past all the starched shirts and perfectly pleated pants, and reached into the farthest corners of the closet. He pulled gently, and emerged holding a pale blue silky smooth bundle of fabric. He took off his school clothes, and unfolded the bundle. It was a dress, a simple dress with short sleeves and a high neckline. Theo smiled, running his hands over it, feeling the smooth texture. He put it on, glorying in how well it fit him. He had taken this from his sisters room as well, just an old dress that nobody seemed to care about.
         Theo spun, watching it flow around his knees as he turned. He smiled, almost laughing, imagining. He stopped, standing straight, poised, like a dancer. He put his left foot behind his right, balancing on the balls of his feet, as if wearing high heeled shoes. He bent at the knees, and curtsied, as if he were at a party, greeting some official of high standing. He turned again towards the magazine. He sat down, keeping his legs together and his feet to one side of the chair, like a lady. He looked at the magazine, and, opening his binder, began to sketch. Designs, patterns, images from his imagination, inspired by the magazine began to appear on the paper of his notebook.
He loved this time, when no-one could bother him, and he was free to imagine. He hated being a boy, had hated it since he was a child. His religious and cloistered family would never accept this. Only his sister had any idea of where his true feeling lay. He kept drawing, long into the afternoon, until a knock on his door and the soft voice of his mother heralded the hour when he must leave for church. He sighed, gathered up his sketches and the magazine, took off the dress, and hid them all in the corner of his closet.
He paused, considering telling his family right then and there, walking out of his room wearing the beautiful sky blue dress, poised and elegant. He shook his head, and took his church clothes out of his closet, with the promise that one day, they would know, and he would realize his dream.