Chapter Text
Seth Gordon is a bitter, angry man. Maybe it’s from the way he grew up, with Jesus’ blood, body, and soul being forced down his throat every Sunday. Or maybe it was more from the six brothers who tormented him every hour he was in that godforsaken house. But could he even use that as an excuse anymore? He lives in Fox Tower now, usually couch surfs during the summer and breaks. No brothers to torment him, no church he’s forced to go to. He should be getting better. He’s mostly clean, he’s on antidepressants, he has a girlfriend who understands him, nothing’s wrong. So why is he still so angry?
Maybe it’s because of Nicky. Seth would like to blame it on him, at least. Nicky got to be open about his sexuality, and still had a decent relationship with his faith. It wasn't fair. Why didn't Seth get to have that? Why did he have to stare in the mirror and want to rip himself to shreds? If Nicky Hemmick wasn't on the team, Seth was sure he would be fine. No, actually, that wasn't true. If Nicky weren't on the team Seth would still hate himself. Nicky just made him full of that sickening, suffocating jealousy and made everything nth times worse.
Today's bout of anger was brought upon by Nicky making some lewd comment directed at Neil. This had been going on since Neil got recruited, and it bothered Seth to no end. Every single day at practice, Nicky never let up. Maybe if Neil had reciprocated any of Nicky’s flirtations, Seth wouldn't be as bothered. He had said something stupid and mean, like he always did. Something about Nicky being a faggot, Seth was too angry to remember his exact wording. He had stormed off the court, after throwing a ball in Nicky’s general direction.
The showers in the changing room were nice, at least. Having the water beat down on him helped ease some of his nerves. The showers had doors, so none of the other guys could look in and see Seth. Seth knew he was the reason for the stall doors— it had been a long, hard conversation with Wymack. Having to explain that no, he wasn't a girl, even though he had all the parts of one, to a 40 year old man in 2002 was something Seth would not wish on anyone. Abby seemed to get it, at least. She was a doctor, so maybe they taught her about transsexuals in med school. Seth knew he was lucky. Wymack and Abby cared enough about him to not let even a whisper of Seth’s secret leak, and Seth himself had gotten blessed with looking masculine enough to pass even before he started taking testosterone.
Seth scrubbed the thoughts from his head. He had better things to worry about. Like his schoolwork. Like exy. Like Allison. They were supposed to have a date tonight, if Allison still wanted to. Seth was sure that if he were a girl and his boyfriend called some guy a faggot he probably wouldn't want to go out with him. How many times had they broken up because Seth was a homophobic asshole? He couldn't remember. Whatever. He could talk to Allison later. God, he still hadn't even told her he wasn't born a guy. It had been… what, a year of on-and-off dating, and Seth still hadn't worked up the balls to tell her. He would like to tell himself he’d tried, but he really hadn’t. Every time he even thought of it around her, he just shut down. Seth couldn't count how many times Allison had tried to get him undressed and he just froze up. She had never gotten mad at him for it, thankfully. She had pried, but when he didn't open up she gave up. She just left it and tried again another time, and the cycle repeats.
Seth would tell her tonight, he decides. He needed to, really. She deserved to know she wasn't dating a real guy. She should've known ages ago. Seth would have to pray she wouldn't tell anyone, if God still bothered to listen to him.
Seth turned off the water, and dried and dressed himself in the stall. His binder was all gross and sweat filled from practice, but he couldn't not wear it. Not like he had a big chest, but he couldn't risk anyone noticing. Abby had told Seth he needed to stop wearing it during practices and games, that it was doing more harm than good, that if his ribs got too fucked up he wouldn't be able to get surgery, but Seth couldn't bring himself to care. If he couldn't get top surgery, he would wear his binder to the depths of hell and back.
—
Date night with Allison went well. They had gotten dinner, and now they were sitting on Seth’s bed with Allison’s hand on his thigh. He needed to tell her, he knew that, but God. She was looking at him with those eyes that very clearly showed what she wanted, and Seth couldn't give it to her no matter how much he wanted to. He had learned when he was younger that no amount of praying would turn him into a real boy.
Seth grabbed Allison’s hand, with maybe a bit more force than necessary. He felt like he was fading in and out of consciousness. This was worse than when he had told his mom. At least he knew how his mother would react, and he had a place ready for him when he got kicked out. But Seth had imagined a hundred different ways this conversation with Allison could go, and he had no clue which one was the most likely.
“We need to talk,” Seth managed out. That was a start, at least. Seth realized his choice of words probably wasn't the best when he saw the look on Allison’s face. “Not about— No, nothing bad. I don't, I mean, I hope not. Just something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
Seth sat up. He stared at Allison’s face, waiting for some type of confirmation. His heart felt like it might beat out of his chest. Allison followed him up, and kept her hand in his. Seth would never say anything, but he was grateful for something to ground him.
“Okay. Did something happen?” The genuine concern in Allison’s voice was on track to making Seth sick, if this conversation didn't do that already.
“No,” Seth answered. “Um. I just… we’ve never done anything,” that was one way to say it. Seth had planned this out, but talking out loud was making him forget ever even learning the English language. This was terrible. He never got nervous. He got mad, he yelled, but he never stumbled on his words like this. Seth sucked in some air, trying to steel himself. It helped, a little bit. But then a second later that anxiety was crushing into him like a semitruck. “You, um, deserve to know why. I don't know why you think I’m so… hesitant, but, uh,”
“You don’t need to tell me if you’re not ready. That’s fine,” Allison told him. God, why did she have to be so nice right now? It was killing Seth. He would be dead before this conversation was over.
Seth shook his head. He tried to remember those stupid breathing techniques Betsy had taught the team a few weeks ago. Maybe they would help.
“I wasn't born like… this,” Seth gestured vaguely to himself. He got himself to look at Allison’s face, and was met with blank confusion. Seth swallowed, and tried again. “A guy, I mean. I was born a girl. But I’m a guy.”
“What?”
Seth cringed at himself. That was a terrible explanation. No wonder Allison was confused. He would be too, if he were in her position.
“I… grew up as a girl. When I got into middle school I had a tomboy phase, and people thought I was a boy, and I realized that… maybe I was. So, uh, so when I graduated high school, I told my mom, and she kicked me out. I looked masculine enough for people here to not realize, and Abby got me on testosterone, so—”
“Does anyone else know?”
“Wymack. And Betsy. That’s it. I don’t want anyone else to know.”
Allison seemed like she was trying to wrap her head around this. Seth could appreciate that, at least. It was better than her blowing up at him, telling him he was a freak and leaving him.
“And Nicky?”
“What?”
“Why are you such an asshole to him?”
Seth hadn’t exactly anticipated that question. He and Allison rarely had serious conversations like this. Normally their nights consisted of making out and her talking about her girl drama. Not stuff like this. Seth was so unaccustomed to it.
“I don’t know,” Seth answered. “I’m jealous, I guess?” At Allison’s blank look, Seth couldn’t just leave it there. He had to explain, or Allison would pry it out of him with those gorgeous eyes of hers. “He… he gets to be happy, and out, and no one cares. I can't do that. If I tried, everyone would see me as a girl, and people would care. It’s not fair.”
“Well, it’s different. Nicky just likes boys, and you’re…”
Allison didn't have to finish her sentence. Seth knew what she meant, and it absolutely and utterly sucked, but what could he do? She was right; like someone the same gender as you and switching genders were completely different things.
“Yeah,” Seth answered. “Yeah, I know, it’s different.”