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Mark grabbed his backpack and quickly left the classroom, feeling like everything inside him was boiling. The stares—he saw them all now, but not in the way he’d gotten used to over the past six months. Even the guys just standing in the hallway, guys he’d never spoken to in his life, were looking at him the same way. He saw it. Saw and understood that those glances, which just during the last break had seemed like reactions to his "weird behavior" because of his antics at the start, weren’t mocking or wary, as he’d always thought. No. They were the same stares, but now he could clearly see genuine interest in them, and in some, even admiration and slight confusion.
"Oh, shit, shit, shit, no, I’m imagining it, I’m just imagining it!" He felt heat rush to his cheeks, as if the whole hallway had turned to stare at him at once. Blindly turning the corner, Mark nearly fell over when he tripped on someone’s backpack sitting against the wall. He stumbled forward, feeling the long strands of his hair fall over his face. "Fucking hair," Mark automatically pushed it back, snapping his head up, and locked eyes with some guy sitting on the floor.
The guy was sitting on the ground in dirty gray sneakers, holding a worn-out notebook and wearing a T-shirt with some game logo on it. His face turned pale, and his eyes looked like they were about to pop out of their sockets.
— I-I-I… you… uh… — he stammered, trembling as if the surprise of a lifetime had just hit him.
"He’s looking at me like I’m not a person but an alien from his favorite comic book," the thought flashed through Mark’s mind, and he felt his embarrassment flood back even harder.
— Uh… Uh, I’m sorry! I mean… you’re just so… uh… — the guy stammered, desperately trying to lift his eyes. A second later, Mark noticed in horror that a stream of blood had started running from the guy’s nose.
— Oh, shit… You’re bleeding! — Mark exhaled automatically, taking a step back. It came out a bit sharp and harsh.
— I-it’s fine! — the guy squeaked, hurriedly covering his face with his notebook and jumping to his feet. But his movements were so sharp and clumsy that he knocked his backpack over with a loud thud.
Mark closed his eyes, counting to three so he wouldn’t blurt out something stupid in response. Then he took a deep breath, turned around, and walked off without saying another word, feeling the nerd’s eyes still on his back.
— Hey! S-sorry, I didn’t mean… — came a voice from behind him, but Mark had already turned another corner, gritting his teeth from the awkwardness.
Busting into the girls' bathroom, Mark immediately felt a wave of relief: silence, no curious stares. Only the faint sound of dripping water from a leaky faucet filled the air. "God, what a disaster!" He leaned back against the cold tiled wall and squeezed his eyes shut, feeling his cheeks still burning. — "Nosebleed… seriously?! What am I, some anime harem girl? What the hell is wrong with everyone today?!" Mark gritted his teeth, furiously brushing his hair out of his face.
Opening his eyes, he walked up to the mirror, gripped the edge of the sink, and stared at his reflection. Everything was the same as yesterday, as last week, as for all these months. There was practically nothing on his face except for a moisturizing cream with a light glow that made his skin look fresh. His eyebrows looked natural, just lightly brushed. The only hint of makeup—a clear lip gloss that faintly reflected the light.
"And why the hell are they all staring at me so weirdly today?" Mark frowned, examining his reflection closely. "I look the same as always. Nothing special. Unless… my hair’s tangled again. And the gloss—it’s not even noticeable, right?" Mark absentmindedly ran his hands through his hair, trying to smooth the unruly strands, but they immediately flew back in every direction. "Maybe it’s the hair? It’s too long, too… girly. I should’ve just tied it back this morning," he thought irritably, feeling his usual confidence slip away again.
Turning to the side, he gave his reflection a once-over and muttered under his breath: — "Yeah, you’re definitely attracting attention in all the wrong ways." He yanked at his skirt, hissing quietly with an annoyed look on his face: — "Damn ass, you piss me off."
The door suddenly flew open, and Jessica stormed in.
— Ah-ha, there you are! — she exhaled, clearly having sprinted halfway down the hallway. — I saw you—you were like a rocket, like the devil himself was chasing you.
Her eyes immediately landed on Emma, who was standing sideways in front of the mirror, angrily tugging at her skirt and glaring at her reflection. Jessica stopped, tilted her head to the side, and narrowed her eyes.
— Wait, are you seriously checking out your ass right now? — her voice was filled with genuine surprise, mixed with a hint of teasing. — Wow, Em, what’s wrong with you? Your figure’s fine, more than fine, and you know it.
— I wasn’t checking anything, — Mark snapped, straightening up sharply and shooting his friend an irritated look. — Everything just pisses me off.
Jessica, casually hopping up onto the sink next to him, looked at him intently.
— What do you mean? — Jessica smiled, crossing her arms and watching Emma with curiosity, like she was waiting for more.
Mark sighed in frustration, running a hand through his hair again to push it out of his face, then looked back at the mirror.
— Everyone’s staring at me weird, Jess. I mean, sure, they always stared, yeah. But I always thought it was just because they whispered behind my back about my… well, my antics, you know, when I said… Anyway, it doesn’t matter now! — he glanced at Jessica, who was already smiling. — What matters is that they’re all staring, Jess. All of them. Guys, girls, even the teachers sometimes, and that nerd in the hallway… He had a nosebleed, for God’s sake! What the hell is that?! And the girls… they look at me like they want me to fall through the floor.
Jessica listened to his tirade with an ever-widening smirk. She wasn’t even trying to hide her amusement.
— Oh-ho, has our Emma finally noticed? — Jessica practically beamed, her voice full of excitement. She threw up her hands and smiled like this was the best day of her life. — I’ve told you a hundred times! Back at the museum, when Dan smoothed things over with Maddie—that’s when everything changed. Some kind of magic started swirling around you.
— What magic? — Mark grumbled irritably, feeling himself start to shake.
— Oh, сome on, don’t play dumb! — Jessica crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him reproachfully. — Everyone noticed that since the start of the school year, you’ve been kind of different. At first, people just thought you got weirder, especially after you started telling everyone, well, all that stuff about being a guy, hah, and then started snapping and mouthing off. But when Dan started talking to you, everything changed. He saw something in you — you told me that yourself, remember? When we went back to your stupid mirror again?
Mark wrinkled his little nose and looked away, not wanting Jessica to bring up those failed attempts to fix everything when he went back to that mirror several times, and Jess kept tagging along because she was worried and didn’t want him traveling that far alone.
— Anyway, what I’m saying is no one but Dan saw it, not even me... but after that, everyone realized that you’re actually, I don’t know, kind of cool. Your confidence, sharp tongue, brains, and looks — it’s something incredible! All those stunts of yours that used to make you seem weird now just make people think you’re a rebel with attitude. The boys are crazy about you, and the girls... — she rolled her eyes. — Of course, they’re jealous. Who’d have doubted that?
Mark felt his stomach tighten. "Crazy about me? Jealous? Stop it, just stop! You’re only making it worse!" He wanted to argue back, but the words got stuck in his throat.
— Oh, come on! — Jessica continued, oblivious to his stunned look. — You’re practically the queen of the school now. And here you are acting like it doesn’t concern you.
— What do you mean, q-q-queen? — Mark’s voice cracked on a high note, which was so unlike him. His knees almost buckled, and he grabbed the sink for support. His gaze darted between his reflection and Jessica’s smug expression. — AYou... you’re serious right now? Queen? That’s just ridiculous!
But Jessica, completely missing his shocked state, was glowing like a Christmas tree. She jumped up and hugged him so tightly she nearly knocked him over.
— Oh, Em, you have no idea how happy I am! You finally get it! I just adore you, my modest queen! The coolest and most amazing, even if you can’t see it yourself!
He stood stiffly in Jessica’s embrace, his arms hanging at his sides, feeling his legs grow weak. Everything inside him twisted into a tight knot, and a sour taste of nausea crept up his throat. "Queen? You’re all joking, right?!" the thought raged in his head. Suddenly, Monica’s face floated before his eyes, always smiling sweetly as she said: "Well, you’re a real man, my king, and I’m your queen. You’re supposed to take care of me, so…" He still remembered how much that cheap manipulation had pissed him off. And now? Now he… was a queen?