Extinction

“You’re right, Quinn. But we have to do what the school board tells us to do.” Ms. Langlois replies.

“I know.” I sigh.

“As for people using the correct pronouns with you… Don’t let it get to you. There’s always going to be assholes who will always refuse to use the correct pronouns, no matter how many times you ask. That’s unfortunately a part of life.”

I sigh. I knew she was right, and I hated it. 

“Like I said, Quinn, don’t let them get to you. The less you let them get to you, the less power it’ll have over you. Trust me.” She winks at me. 

My eyes widen, and I realize she was telling me a secret. She was trans. “I never knew.”

“Nobody does, except for you, Quinn.” She smiles gently at me. “So like I said, don’t let them get to you.”

I grin, nodding. “Thanks, Ms. Langlois. Also, your secret is safe with me.”

“Appreciate it, Quinn.”

I sit at my desk, waiting for all the others to come into the classroom, and moments later, everyone else file into the room. Class starts then, and I doodle in my notebook. Ms. Langlois never calls on me, as she knows that even if I don’t pay attention in her class, I’ll still get straight A’s. I did all my homework, and passed all my tests with flying colors, so she didn’t care that I slacked off, especially on days like today when I was feeling stressed. Just another reason to add to my list of why she was my favorite teacher.

As I doodle in my notebook, I can feel someone glaring at me. I know it’s Travis, but I don’t pay him any attention. He can be salty from our earlier encounter, and I won’t let it bother me.

Suddenly, I feel something drip from my nose, and land on my notebook. I focus on it. Blood.

I quickly get up from my desk, holding my hand to my nose, and call out, “I’ll be back!” Then I’m out of the classroom before anyone can say anything else.

As I jog to the bathroom, I run into the hall monitor. I roll my eyes in annoyance, knowing he’s going to stop me.

“Where’s your hall pass?” His nasally voice calls out to me as I slow to a walk.

I stare at him calmly, narrowing my eyes, and I demand, “Do you want to clean up the blood that’s dripping from my nose?”

His already pale face pales even further, then he steps off to the side, motioning for me to continue.

“That’s what I thought.” I snap, speeding past him.

I enter the woman’s bathroom and into one of the stalls, sitting on the toilet. I unravel some toilet paper and stick it up my nose. I breathe deeply through my mouth, and tilt my head back. The blood draining into the back of my throat is something I’ll never get used to, but it helps stop the bleeding. I don’t know how long I stay in that stall, but eventually, I think it stops bleeding, and I decide to check. Tenderly, I pull the wad of toilet paper from my nose, grimacing as I see a blood clot sticking to it. But I don’t feel any more blood running down my sinuses, so I think I’m in the clear. 

I get up from the toilet and toss the blooded tissue into it before flushing it. I walk to the sink and turn it on with my not bloodied hand, and scrub the blood off my other hand with soap and warm water. As I do this, I stare at my reflection. Pale skin, ice blue eyes, with a scar over the right eye, a crooked nose, freckles over the bridge of the nose and cheeks, full, chapped lips,  short dirty blonde hair, with the left side buzzed, all stare back at me. There’s blood on my lips, and I scrub it off. I stare at the scar and silently curse my mother. I didn’t remember her, but my dad said she was psychotic, and off her meds when one day she attacked me, thus giving me this scar, my crooked nose, and my deviated septum, thus calling all my random bloody noses.

I turn off the water, and dry them off with paper towel, before throwing it away. Then I straighten out my purple tank top, and black dress shirt. I notice there were some blood droplets on my tank top, and I sigh. When I look down at my dark gray skinny jeans, I sigh again, as I see some blood droplets on them as well. I’d have to take care of them later at home. I leave the bathroom and walk back to my German class. When I enter the room, everyone stares at me, and Ms. Langlois looks at me with a concerned look on her face.

“Are you okay, Quinn?”

“Yeah, just a bloody nose.” I reply as I take my seat. “Nothing new.”

She nods at me, the concern still etched on her face, but goes back to teaching class.

_______

Once German was over, it was lunch time. I was waiting for Claire at her locker. Her class, Chemistry, was on the other side of the school, so I had to wait a little bit for her, which I didn’t mind. When I see her coming towards me, I grin at her.

“You ready to go?”

“Yeah, just let me put my stuff away and we can go.”

She puts her things away in her locker, and then we head out towards the parking lot together, her arm wrapped in mine. Once to her car, we get inside, she starts it up, and we leave the parking lot, heading towards Wendy’s. Once on the road, she puts on music she knows we’ll both like, and today that’s Bad Omens. We both belt out The Death of Peace of Mind. It only takes that song for us to get there, and we’re pulling into the parking lot just as F E R A L by Bad Omens starts playing. We go into the fast food restaurant, and we order our food, her a Asiago Ranch Classic Chicken Club meal, and me a Son of Baconater meal. She gets a Coke, and I get a Dr. Pepper. Once we get our food, we take a seat near a window, and start eating, her working on her sandwich, me on my fries.

“How are your classes going, Quinn?” She asks.

I look at her blankly, before breaking out into a grin. “Really?”

She rolls her eyes, laughing. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I forgot, Mx. Straight A.”

“How are things with Adam?” I ask, my voice full of disdain as I mention her boyfriend’s name after I finish chewing on a couple of fries and taking a drink of my soda.

“Oh, he’s…” She trails off, looking outside briefly, taking a drink of her soda before looking back at me. “He’s okay.”

I raise an eyebrow at her hesitance, and I shove another fry or two into my mouth. “Something happen?”

“No… Not really. At least I don’t think.” She replies, after swallowing her bite of burger. “He’s just been… really distant lately.”

I make a noise of disapproval in my throat. “I don’t like that, Claire. You know I hate how he treats you.”

“I know.” She sighs, looking back out the window. She goes to take another bite of her sandwich, but it slips from her hand as her hand comes up to her mouth in shock. “Quinn!”

I look out the window, and I see it too.

A zombie stumbling out from the treeline towards the restaurant.