Chapter 2
Tam
Six months prior
It’s the first day of my junior year in high school, and I’ve got the first-day jitters. Who will my classmates be? Will I like my roommate? Will I do or say something stupid that will relegate me to the un-popular crowd? Will I be able to handle the coursework and keep my grades high enough to get into the professional training school I want?
I get off the shuttle in Egalitarius City and make my way to the receiving queue, lining up with everyone else according to last name. So far, I don’t see anyone I know from last year. When I get to the front, I receive my welcome packet with my name and room assignment printed on it.
Usarian, Tamika—Spivey Hall, room 411.
I arrive at my dorm room before my roommate, which earns me the privilege of picking the personal cubicle of my choice. The layout of the apartment-like dorm is simple. There’s a common room with a small sitting area comprised of a burnt orange futon couch, a coffee table, and two matching uncomfortable-looking armchairs—also burnt orange. On the back wall, there’s a shelf with a microwave and a mini-refrigerator underneath. Just in front of that is a table with two chairs. Off to either side are two personal cubicles, which are the only places we’re allowed to take off our helmets unless we’re in an identity-cluster group meeting or at the doctor’s office. Each personal cubicle contains a bed, desk, closet, and private bathroom.
For no particular reason, I pick the cubicle on the left. I take a few minutes to set the door entry code on the touchscreen beside the door before going inside. Safety first. I enter my newly selected code once more at the end of the password dialog and the door to the cubicle slides open. I’m dismayed to see that the color scheme from the common area carries over into the cubicles as well. A burnt orange bedspread greets me as I enter, along with a matching colored cushion on the desk chair.
The first thing I do once I’m inside and the door shuts is remove my helmet, placing it on the stand next to the desk. The smell of the cleaning agent that the janitorial staff used to clean the room makes me smile. It’s a slightly lemony scent, reminding me of the cleaner we use back home.
I remove my gloves and toss my duffle bag on the chair before plopping down on the bed and tearing open my welcome packet, removing the computer tablet that I’ll be using for all of my classes. After turning it on and flipping past all of the informational pages, I finally get to my class schedule. Chemistry 301, Spanish 200, Archery, History of Equality, and Human Sexuality. I click on the ‘map it’ link, which displays a customized map showing the route I’ll take to get to each of my classes, how far they are from the dorm, and the approximate travel time it will take to get to each location. When I’m done reviewing the routes, I breathe a sigh of relief.
I always feel a bit nervous at the start of the school year. All the change makes me feel off-center. Finding out where everything is and familiarizing myself with the class schedule helps me feel calmer. My therapist says it’s a control thing and that it’s completely normal. It doesn’t freak me out as much as it did my freshman year, but it’s still palpable.
Next, I flip back to the dorm map, review the best route to the cafeteria, and familiarize myself with the food service hours. I’m in the process of reviewing this week’s menu when I hear the whoosh of the dorm room door—indicating my roommate has just arrived. I go over to the one-way viewing portal on my cubicle door and look out. My roommate has their back turned to me, so I can’t see their avatar image or their name. They turn in my direction just long enough for me to see ‘Marcus’ on the nameplate of their suit.
Once Marcus sees that my cubicle is occupied, they turn around and disappear into their own. I wonder if Marcus is male or female, but I’ll likely never find out. I just hope we get along.
The rest of the morning goes reasonably well. I finish unpacking, and then Marcus and I greet each other in the common area, where I learn a bit about his background. I’m still not sure if he’s male and his profile doesn’t say, but we’re allowed to use the historical gender association for someone’s name unless they specify otherwise.
He’s from some place upstate that I’ve never heard of, but apparently, they have mountains nearby where he hiked as a kid. I love the outdoors, so we spend a few minutes talking about some of the places we’ve hiked before an alarm goes off in my helmet. My visor’s internal display screen shows that I have an appointment for identity-group assignment in fifteen minutes, so I say my goodbyes and head out.
I arrive at the testing site with five minutes to spare. It’s located in the same grey, single-story nondescript building I’m used to from my previous years, right next door to the registration office. When my appointment time comes, I’m ushered into a test cubicle, punching in my name and student I.D. number on the old-fashioned full-size keyboard before I begin the evaluation.
The test is routine by now. I remember the first time I took it. I was so nervous I’d pick something I’d regret, but it wasn’t so bad. They split the school year into quarters, and you can change identity groups at the beginning of each quarter if you want. They let you switch around a lot in high school so you can get a flavor of the different groups. Once you graduate, open enrollment for changing identity groups only comes once a year.
Once I finish entering my responses, the results screen displays my identity profile, which is pretty much the same as last year’s. I pick the same identity group categories I had before from the selections displayed on the screen—I don’t like to mix things up during the first quarter since there’s already so much change going on. I select the check-boxes for Outdoor Sports, the Reader’s group, and Religion, and then click ‘Next’.
I’ve been on a kick of surveying the different religious identity groups. Last year, I signed up for Christianity one quarter, then Islam the next. This time, I pick New Age on the sub-group selection screen. Next, I choose Science Fiction as my Reader sub-group and finalize my selections. A pop-up informs me that a copy of my selections has been sent to my school email account.
I spend the rest of the day going to the normal spate of orientation meetings and wandering around the campus near my new dorm, hoping to get a better feel for the area. It helps me calm down and not be so anxious about the start of the new year. By the end of the day I’m feeling pretty chill. I’m actually excited to begin classes tomorrow.
* * * * *
The next morning, I sleep through my alarm. When I see what time it is, I realize I only have thirty minutes to spare before my first class. No time for my normal routine, especially if I want to get some breakfast before class. One advantage of wearing a helmet every day is that you don’t have to worry about combing your hair. I brush my teeth in a rush, slam on my helmet, and head to the cafeteria to grab a snack.
I cruise into chemistry class in time to get a seat near the front, which is my usual M.O. The teacher begins with roll call and then reviews the syllabus. As expected, the first few lessons will be a review of what we covered last year, giving our brains a chance to resurrect the latent knowledge that’s atrophied over summer break. The professor is new, but seems pretty laid-back, which is a welcome change from last year. Mr. Epstein was way too strict.
My only other class for the day is History of Equality, a mandatory class for all juniors. Training on the equality laws starts in elementary school, and they cover some of the history each year starting in sixth grade, but this will be the first time we spend an entire year studying the topic in-depth. I’m actually looking forward to it. I’m a bit of a history geek myself, so I guess that makes sense.
The classroom is rather large, with the chairs being arranged in a semi-circle around a five by eight foot raised platform in the front of the room. A sizeable viewscreen is mounted on the front wall, with a podium off to one side. Aside from the screen, the concrete block walls are bare and painted in the ubiquitous industrial white that seems to be the favorite of government contractors. The room rapidly fills to capacity—about fifty students in all. As I look around, I notice a pink backpack with various bright-colored patches positioned on the floor, two seats to my right. I immediately recognize it as belonging to Cynthia. We were study partners last year in a Western Civilizations class.
Lots of girls in school like to express their feminine side with their backpacks. Since it’s illegal to wear anything but unisex clothing, it’s one of the few ways to express your gender. Some trans and cross-gender students do it, too, and maybe even a few guys. Even though we’ve never talked about our genders, I’m pretty sure Cynthia is female. It’s not just the backpack. Her mannerisms and even the way she walks seems feminine, too. I don’t have time to say anything to her before the teacher begins to speak.
“Good morning, class. Welcome to the History of Equality course. My name is Zand Giles, and I’ll be your instructor. I hope you all had a good summer break.”
There’s a comment I don’t quite hear from the back of the room, and a group of students laugh a little too loudly. Mr. Giles stops and looks in the direction of the offenders.
“By all means, don’t let me interrupt your reverie. You obviously have something more important to say than I do, so please entertain us all with your observations.”
Silence follows.
“Very well. I trust we’ll have no more interruptions. Let’s go through an overview of what we’ll be covering in this course. You can follow along on your tablet or watch the main screen.”
Once the lights dim, slide after slide shows us what’s in store for us. There’s a short section on ancient times, a somewhat longer section entitled ‘Inequality in Early America’ that begins with the founding of the colonies, a section on the Civil Rights movement, and a large section dedicated to the Equality Revolution that occurred between 2016 and 2045. The last slide shows our study assignment for the next class, and then the lights come back up, revealing at least one student who’s nodded off during the presentation.
“Make sure you study the material and are prepared for the next class discussion. Have a good day, everyone.”
