How to Find Clean Water (ftm transgender)

How to Find Clean Water (ftm transgender)

Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance

Houses:

Details

Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance

Houses:

Summary

Water can be hard, soft, moldy, or crystal clear. We may not see or understand the process, but it can always be made pure again. This is Chad's mantra, but Hayden has a hard time believing it. When he stumbles across a philosopher with an alternative lifestyle, Hayden suddenly begins to question his purpose in life, and whether or not he is truly happy. Can he turn his life around like water, or is Chad just prophesying?
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Summary

Water can be hard, soft, moldy, or crystal clear. We may not see or understand the process, but it can always be made pure again. This is Chad's mantra, but Hayden has a hard time believing it. When he stumbles across a philosopher with an alternative lifestyle, Hayden suddenly begins to question his purpose in life, and whether or not he is truly happy. Can he turn his life around like water, or is Chad just prophesying?

Chapter1 (v.1) - Sand on the Sidewalk

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: February 22, 2017

Reads: 59

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: February 22, 2017

A A A

A A A

Have you ever seen the spiky balls on the shrub in front your mailbox? Do you know if they are dry or fleshy fruits? As I handed an older man his mail, I wanted to ask him if he had already seen them. I didn't ask him though. It was a silly question, I mean, he would probably think it was. Most people didn't really look at what was in their yard unless it was causing a problem, like weeds or opossums snarling at them because they were hungry for mangoes or palm nuts. 
I was about to tell the man he had a nice lawn when he shut the door closed in front of my face. I shrugged, turning back to my bike. I had tons of deliveries left and I couldn't waste any time thinking about silly things. I shifted my mail bag on my left side and hopped up onto my bike, staring at the sky. I wondered if anyone else noticed how much cooler it's gotten. As soon as I began to pick up speed I heard my name being called from behind me.
"Hayden! Hayden! It's Julius!!!" I jumped, pressing hard on the brake. I flew right off the bike, straight onto the sidewalk. My hands and knees broke my fall so they were wrought with pain, and I knew they would be bloody, bloody.
"Shit! Are you okay?!" Julius's pounding feet against the ground encouraged me enough to lift my spinning head up and turn towards him. His long curly hair shook as he stretched his hand out towards me, and his face was strained with concern. Julius is 17, two years my junior, my best friend, and commonly known as the dude that dropped out. I'd known him since I was in eleventh grade, but we became friends in the twelfth grade when he sat next to me on the bus to tell me about a girl who wanted me to go to prom with her. I declined his proposal, and Julius was dumbfounded, trying to explain to me how nice Kate was, but it was all lost on me. After that, we ended up talking about girls that fucked us over mostly. I had only recently begun to see girls differently. With wariness, kind of like they were dangerous. As for Julius, he told me always thought girls were insane. Supposedly, that's why he never loved, or dated. Friendships are funny like that, they're never serious friendships until you learn something integral about  the other person. 
"Jules, I will beat your ass. Do this shit one more time." I said, yanking on Julius's hand to make him lose his balance. "Yeah, yeah. If you were strong enough to beat my ass I wouldn't be the one helping you up right now." He said, letting go of my hand. I let my eyes roll to the back of my head before addressing him again. Jules always wore jeans, vans, and a plain black t-shirt, so I was curious as to why he was wearing a shirt of any other color than his signature Hanes black. After a couple more seconds, I noticed tiny sparkles in the white, form-fitting fabric. "Are you...experimenting with your style now?" I asked, trying not to smile. Jules raised his eyebrows, looked down at his shirt, and held it up by pinching it. "Oh this? This...belongs to Brody.." He said casually, shaking his hair with his hand. He did that when he was nervous, but it was supposed to look natural. I knew him too well. I shrugged, hopping back on my bike and pedaling off. He'd tell me eventually.
"Wait!" He called out after me. I slowed down. I let him catch up to me, crossing my arms. "When do I meet her?" I said. "What?" "The girl. When do I meet her?" I stated plainly. Julius's mouth parted and closed as he tried to come up with an acceptable answer. H stood there for a while, shifting his weight uncomfortably. "Hayden...I have someone I like." I laughed, losing the grip on my bike. "No shit!" I laughed. He punched me in the shoulder, shutting me up. "Fuck man, listen to me! Did you hear me? I said I like her!" I looked at his face in shock. He looked at me like I had destroyed some kind of expensive piece of art and now I had to buy it. I let out an exasperated sigh. "You're such a dick. Stop joking." I walked with my bike, and he walked alongside me now.
"Hello? This should worry you! Me, wanting to be with someone seriously is like... weird." He said, shoving his hands in his pockets as he stares at the ground. His brain seems distant, and now I word my sentences carefully because I have to draw him back in. "It could be that initial feeling." I said, speculative. "Maybe you're still in that stage." He shook his head. "I don't think so man. Ever since we met, we've been at the park. Day after day. We talk about stuff. Really, just talk! No sex. I know a lot about her now. I've met her dad a few times, I think he likes me? But man.. Brody is something else. She has all these passions, and she's so fucking ambitious. She makes me feel like I'm worth more, you know? Like I'm meant for something. And trust me, we don't always agree, so I think we're past the bee stage or whatever the fuck it's called." He said, kicking a piece of gravel. Okay, so it was really happening. My best friend found a girl. So why didn't I feel ecstatic for him? Didn't I want him to be happy?
"How old is she?" I asked, hoping she wasn't too young. "She's 18." He said, laughing. I shrugged. He always did have a thing for girls that were younger than him. "Brody Summers, right?" I said, handing him her mail and his. "You're completely fucking me up today. And look, you don't even care. I'm going with the brat to catch some surf after my shift ends. If you still love me you'll come." I said, sticking out my tongue. Julius made a nauseous face, but nodded. "Thanks man. Is it cool if my girl comes with me? Maybe your sister and Brody will like each other." I looked at him with a desert dry expression. "Maybe. No promises. Eva is picky with her friends. I wish I she wasn't, but hey, what can you do?" Jules sighed a fake sigh, wiping a sheet of sweat off of his forehead. "You do what you can. See you at 2:00pm." 
As Julius pedaled off, a wave of pain hit me in my gut. It was physically difficult to stand. Any and all feelings I had for him, they were all tearing at my soul. I felt like I was being swallowed up. Now my palms weren't the only things being rubbed raw. My eyes were too. It was difficult to finish my run that day. By the time I got home and took off my sweaty clothes I knew there would be no surf today. How could I look at him and smile and look at his girlfriend and not lose my shit? I groaned into my pillow, and heard my younger sister banging on the door. "Heidi!!! Heidi hurry up, we gotta go!" My sister, Eva, was a bitch. She knew my name was Hayden, but she didn't want to call me it. If she did, it was because other people were there to make sure she did. She would rather put me through torture than slightly "inconvenience" herself.
"Go ahead without me. I caught a cold. Tell Julius I'm sorry." I said loudly. "And stop calling me Heidi. You're driving me crazy with that shit." I said, rolling over in my bed. She took a moment before hitting me back with an equally nasty response, in her mind. "But you already drove yourself crazy, thinking you're a nigga and all. You're really just an ugly, depressed, slut. As a matter of fact, that's probably why you don't even want to come today. You probably fucked one of Julius's friends and got herpes. That's fine, keep going to therapy like the crazy bitch that you are. That's why Julius would never like you, you stupid, crazy bitch. Oh, and don't forget to wash the dishes, I have plans tonight. See ya." 
The moment I heard the door slam closed I washed all the dishes, grabbed a bag and filled it with some clothes and toiletries, and left the house. I couldn't take it. I was gonna snap. I had to avoid it. I was going to sleep on the beach if I had to. Anywhere was better than that house, where my younger sister ruled, and I was like a moth on the wall, unsightly and hovering. Her words killed me. Why? Because even though she was a bitch, she was my sister and I loved her. I wanted her to love me too, but she just hated me. She was ashamed of me. I was a stain on her life that she couldn't rub out. But I had lived too long being ashamed of my voice, my chest, my face, and my effeminacy to let her take away whatever confidence I had left. Evangeline was too juvenile, pulling standards for a stereotypical older sister out of her ass. Maybe If she hadn't ever known about my biological sex, she wouldn't have these bizarre expectations of me. Either way, it was my responsibility to foster her well and expose her to reality. But right now, I couldn't. Right now, I wanted to smack the crap out of her. So I walked. By the time I stopped to rest my phone was dead. I couldn't tell where I was, but I could see that the sidewalk was covered in a fair, soft sand, that slowly turned darker with the stains of saltine droplets that fell from above.
In the distance I heard soft guitar playing, and could just barely discern a man singing through the ocean winds. I walked towards the voice, dragging my feet in the sand. The rain started to pick up, and I started to run. I had to find the one who was singing, before the world got too loud. Before I was too late. The clouds overhead were thickening, and before I realized it, it was dark out. The rain suddenly stopped, and the street lamps had gone on. The man had stopped singing, but had begun to play louder. It was an interlude. He was waiting. For me? It seemed as if as soon as I had caught my breath, I was running again. This time, I was sure of where I was going. I found a path that led directly to the beach, but it was entirely unknown to me.
I followed it down, climbing over mangrove roots and pushing aside low-hanging branches until I heard the music become ear shatteringly loud. I turned to the left and there he was. Quite a few feet away, but I still could make him out. He was unsmiling, eyes closed, rocking to the music. His dark hair fell in waves around his sharp face, and he had hairy arms and legs to match. He was shirtless, and on his lap he held a large tan guitar that he strummed passionately, tapping it and tapping his foot in perfect rhythm. There was something ritual about it. I didn't want to interrupt it. I sat close to the edge of the woods, in the shade of the trees.
I watched as his hands moved. Sometimes they moved slow, like a creek that trickled and babbled. More often they moved quickly, with aggression and passion. Like fighting, like making love. I was amused by him. I was thinking less and less, beginning to take it all in. In my relaxed state of mind I fathomed that life was a series of moments, and that many of those moments would consist of me being wholly in admiration of someone else's accomplishments. I smiled, rubbing my eyes. He strummed the instrument more gently now, and soon I felt like I was going to fall asleep. I put my bag beneath my head. I could sleep here. I could. My eyes started to close, and right when sleep had taken a hold of me, an unfamiliar voice snapped me awake.
"All that and no applause?"


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